Like a river's flow
by parasitictentacle
Summary: Seven years after the fall of Ganondorf, Link is summoned back to Hyrule to record his memories of the time that was prevented. As he delves deeply into old legends, mnemonic time theory, and his own past, he discovers love and friendship in an overlooked ally. M!Sheik.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This fic is the length it is because I was equally interested in developing material to fill gaps within the plot of Ocarina of Time and in Link and Sheik's relationship. I also attempted to describe the characters with some measure of realism, e.g., red eyes were changed to coppery-brown. Hope that's ok with you all.

Also please note that "Tallyn" is Sheik's adopted name in this story. Why? You'll have to read to find out!

Enjoy!

* * *

LINK

* * *

Link reached the summit of the rocky hills and gazed out across the plains below. A light summer drizzle dampened his hot skin and dusty travel garb, intensifying the smells of the horse, his perspiration, and the fertile earth below him. He blinked away droplets and noticed that the grass was becoming fuller, and leafy deciduous trees were beginning to speckle the landscape between the lean, spiny trees of the northwestern hillside.

His mind was clouded with anxiety and doubt regarding his reasons for returning to Hyrule. He felt both foolish and relieved to drop the fragments of his new life and return at the princess's request. He fingered the curled letter in his breast pocket absently as he descended the steep hill on horseback.

Link sat back in the saddle and thought about the last time he was in Hyrule. Seven years ago, he had had the strange experience of sleeping away his adolescence and awakening in a time parallel to the present, suddenly strong enough to depose the evil that invaded the land. Once he had killed Ganondorf, the usurper king, Link was sent back seven years to this time where he awoke again as a boy, filled with the undeveloped, premature memories of time spent as a man.

Though Link had destroyed Hyrule's enemy in another time, the rogue king from the west continued to spread his poison in the capitol. Through a secret plot between Link, Princess Zelda, and the kingsguard, Ganondorf was arrested in the act of staging a coup, and was later sentenced to death. Still a boy, Link was rewarded with knighthood and significant riches, but he refused it all, choosing instead to travel to faraway lands in search of new skills and purpose.

Link wandered. As he was marked in this life with unusual courage, anachronism, and preference by the gods, he tumbled in and out of parallel dimensions and impossibly far regions of the world not yet explored, training with swordsmen in the east, and apprenticing to leatherworkers and blacksmiths by the sea. He found his way to a remote mountain village on his native continent not long ago where he studied under a master of healing arts who was distantly descended from the Sheikahs of Hyrule.

While sitting on the steps of the mountain shrine on a cold morning in Olous, a falcon with a letter tied to its leg swooped down and attached itself painfully to Link's arm. Overcoming his initial alarm, he unraveled the letter and read the familiar, tidy scrawl three times, and then leaned heavily back against the wood post. The letter was from Zelda, and the request was strange, and seemingly trivial.

_Dear Link,_

_I have been sending you letters for two years with no success in reaching you, yet I am sure you are alive. If you receive this letter, please write to me immediately to let me know that you are safe. _

_My request is not a desperate one, as life in Hyrule is peaceful, but it is of the utmost importance. I am writing to entreat you to return home to Hyrule to chronicle your memories from the Other Time, so that they may be recorded and preserved for future generations. _

_I hope that you will return rather than remain in willful exile, as the imprint of the Other Time still echoes through the temples and in the dreams of the sages. _

_Z._

Link was now only a few hours from Kakariko Village, but the afternoon was quickly turning to dusk. He had responded to the princess soon after receiving her letter assuring her that he was safe and would travel to Hyrule, which quickly prompted a formal invitation from Zelda to stay at the castle, which he politely declined. He was sure that such a visit and extended stay would produce chatter, and would not be without fanfare. She sent him a third letter while he was on the road inviting him to stay instead at her attendant Impa's unoccupied home in the village, which he felt more at ease to accept.

Link could not remember how he felt about the princess. He thought he might love her, but could not pinpoint why, nor could he even recall what she looked like very clearly. She shifted in his mind between a naïve, mischievous girl, a solemn, war-torn sage, and, somehow, Sheik.

As he drew nearer, the tall grass brushed by his legs and his thoughts drifted to those he had once loved, friends scattered across Hyrule in the forest, mountains, the river's mouth, across the plains. He wondered how much they remembered, if anything, of the Other Time, or if they only glimpsed it in dreams as the princess suggested. Were the lives that the sages returned to the ones they were actually destined to live, or were they too living an easy, proxy-existence, their true purpose being already realized and fulfilled in another time?

Link reached the village when it was dark and found it difficult to determine the extent of its development since he had been away. It appeared to have sprawled across the neighboring fields and woods, and he struggled to locate Impa's house—the roads he remembered were either gone, or widened and twisted beyond recognition.

He led his horse Epona to the tiny stable behind the house and was surprised to see that water and feed had been thoughtfully laid out for their arrival. Entering the house, he found fresh bread and stewed vegetables waiting for him in the hearth and water heating by the basin in the washroom. He ate quickly, delighted to have a hot meal, and modestly stripped down for a bath. He stood over the drain for a moment and scrubbed the dirt from his neck and arms, regarding the moon through the window, before filling the basin and immersing himself into the hot water. He sighed deeply and drew the soap languidly across his long torso and limbs, thinking all the while about when he might visit Zelda, and how different she might be from what he remembered. He wondered too how he might be received, being so different, he felt, from the blond, willowy, virginal iteration of himself that emerged from the Sacred Realm, untouched by the sun or conflict. Instead, he was stronger, more rugged and scarred, with the markings of hard sword training, and a leanness about him from a long illness. His eyes were steelier and calmer, and his hair was longer, fastened back in a short bundle, unbleached from living in a colder climate. The only mark he carried from his other existence was the faint Triforce symbol on his hand that he kept covered with a cloth.

The cooling water woke him with a chill as he began to doze. Link stepped out of the tub and dried himself, and feeling averse to dressing, he climbed right into the crisp, clean sheets on the bed on the second floor, and went directly to sleep.

* * *

Link woke early, dressed with care, and groomed Epona before setting off for the castle, about an hour's ride away. He was shocked at how much the Castletown had flourished, and lost his way once or twice in the busy roads filled with travelers, merchants, and citizens going about their daily work. It was early yet. Following a whim, he rode down a familiar side road and dismounted in front of the Temple of Time.

Inside, he found the temple vacant except for one worshiper lighting candles. Link crossed the long nave, ascended the stairs beyond the altar, beyond where most people go, and entered the far apse.

He drew in a breath as he glimpsed the Master Sword for the first time in many years. He was filled with the sensation of finding something he had lost long ago, and gazed at the sword through the long beams of light that struck the blade and illuminated the tiny dust particles in the air. Link approached the sword and bent down to examine it, taking in every detail and comparing it against his memory. The linen wrappings still humbly adorned the sword's hilt, a bit grayer in color, but otherwise intact and much the same as he remembered. He carefully touched the blade and filleted hilt, and then ran his fingers over the delicate fragments of linen.

He could no longer avoid thinking of Sheik.

Link allowed his memories to completely overtake him. They flashed before his eyes, combining, distorting, and exaggerating interactions, until they abruptly halted and there was only Zelda, here in this very temple, at the moment when the Sheikah disguise melted away and the blue synthetic fabric and linen wrappings fell to the floor, catching against her dress, crumpling, disappearing.

He was aware that the bit of fabric before him was an artifact from a time that was prevented, from a person who never really existed, and yet Link could touch it. He was struck for the first time by the absurdity, the impossibility of Sheik's desert wrappings existing when he had watched them disappear, and allowed himself to become concerned for a moment about the consequences of having taken an object, real or imagined, from one world to another. The longer he stood there, the more Link began to desire to pull the blade out, to see if it still accepted him, or to see if Time would tear apart upon removing the suture that held it together.

He shook off those thoughts and left the temple and headed toward the castle. The path grew quieter as he rode north and he soon reached the gates that he had so often scaled as a child. He gave his name to the guard and was escorted at once to the stables and then to one of the smaller gardens within the courtyard.

Her back was to him, but he knew that she sensed his presence, as he saw her shoulders tighten in anticipation. She turned slowly, with the trace of a smile in her cheeks, and stood to meet him.

"My dear friend," she said.

Link knelt and Zelda held out her left hand, which he ignored, and instead took her right hand and kissed it fondly. His eyes lingered on the Triforce mark she bore on her hand. She touched his face and bade him to stand.

"Princess," he replied.

She took his hand in hers and led him down a path between beds of tall flowers.

"How you've changed," she said when they were alone.

"You've not changed at all."

Link offered her his arm while they walked, which she took gladly.

"Where have you disappeared to these last seven years?" she asked.

"To the ends of the earth," he replied.

"I suspected as much. I hope you will tell me some stories about where you've been and what you've been doing."

Link gazed out across the lawn and listed the far off lands he had visited and various occupations he had pursued. He told her about how he had trained as a fighter in warrior camps in the east, crossed the sea twice, studied healing, and learned to bake bread. His adventures delighted her, and he smiled when she threw her head back in laughter, insisting that he was lying, and begging him to tell her more.

Though she looked much the same, Link observed a sort of lightness of presence in her that he did not recall from the Other Time. Her skin glowed, her gestures were whimsical, and her smile was lighthearted and genuine. He imagined that this was what Zelda must be like without the fate of the realm weighing so heavily upon her shoulders.

"And what have you been doing since we last saw each other?" he asked.

"Ah," said Zelda, catching her breath, "If I were to tell you, I'm afraid you would die of boredom. Very well! I will tell you all the same. I spent years learning how to be a lady—to dance, embroider, play music (horrid things!), and more recently, how to be a ruler. I've been studying history and maps and all of the legends of Hyrule's peoples. That's when I began to wonder about how those strange and terrible events from a time parallel to ours could be recorded for those in this world." She lifted her eyes to his. "I thought that you, the key to these two worlds, would be the only one who could possibly write it."

Link was quiet for a moment. "You know far more about it, though—about the sages, about how Time split into two… in fact, you know more about everything that happened."

"That is not true. I know nothing of the trials you faced, or the things you saw."

"But you do—you were there with me at every step."

Zelda looked at him, her eyes conflicted. "You are very kind," she said, "but truly, I was not."

Link paused again. "But Sheik was; surely you remember, in some way?"

She shook her head. "No. It was not until the very end that I met you in disguise. Sheik was one of the last of the Sheikahs, sworn to my family."

Link looked at her dumbstruck.

"Yes… Sheik was like a brother to me. In the Other Time, we grew up in hiding together with Impa in the mountains of M. I gave him my lyre and appointed him as the Royal Messenger, for whom you were often mistaken." Her eyes glanced up at him and then flitted away.

Link was suddenly embarrassed, as his mind raced through past conversations, trying to remember or recognize anything akin to what the princess was telling him. He felt uneasy, as if he had not known Zelda nearly as well as he thought, and that everything he had rationalized about Sheik was false. Sensing his sudden bewilderment, Zelda led him to a bench and sat down beside him.

"Where were you then?" he asked.

"I was in M." she said in a soft voice.

Link shook his head. "I'm sorry. How stupid I am. I thought it was you."

She caressed his hand.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

Zelda unbuckled his left gauntlet and slid it off. She grasped his hand with hers and threaded her fingers between his. Immediately, a powerful feeling of warmth and calm overtook Link. He raised his eyes to the princess and found that she too looked calm, if not sad.

"Because I felt I had to. But it doesn't matter now, Link. It's over."

He continued gazing at her, wondering who Sheik really was, wondering who she really was, while continuing to feel calm and still. Zelda looked away.

"It feels nice," he said.

"Of course it does—they are resonating."

"The last time I felt this was—"

"I know. They long to be together."

Link nodded slowly.

"But they are the very reason we can not ever be," she added.

"Why is that?" asked Link.

She pulled her hand away and stood up, and began making her way back into the courtyard.

"You know why."

Link picked up his gauntlet and lingered a moment longer before following.

"So I am to chronicle my story."

She smiled. "Yes. You have full access to any book in the castle's collection, in the town library, in Kakariko, anywhere. What ever you need, you shall have."

"You said the sages are dreaming of the Other Time?"

"Yes…" she paused. "I am not sure how helpful they will be, but Impa is having dreams and déjà vus—though she assures me they are nothing. But you will find that the temples may still hold some memory of the past that Time has forgotten."

They returned to where the princess had first been sitting. On the table were two books; she picked up the smaller volume and placed it in Link's hands.

"This book contains everything that I remember about what happened. I hope it will be helpful to you."

"Thank you," he replied, glancing down at the blue and gold marbled cover.

"I hope you will reconsider staying with us here… but of course, you may stay at Impa's house as long as you like."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"Please write to me," she said, "and come visit any time." She kissed him softly on the corner of his lips.

"Goodbye, Zelda," said Link, leaving her and heading for the stone door where he had entered.


	2. Chapter 2

LINK

* * *

Link returned to the village by midafternoon and set out to gather some basic provisions. He meandered through the bustling market on the West Road, selecting grains, fruit, meat, cheese, and bread for his meals. He turned down a wide alley with more vendors, and soon found purveyors of textiles, including cotton and linen clothing. He selected a few shirts, tunics, and pants that suited his taste and would make him appear less foreign and conspicuous. With arms weighed down with food and clothing, Link made his final stop at the paper merchant, where he took his time selecting inks, quill pens, charcoal and graphite pencils, small field books for sketching and scribbling down notes, bundles of parchment and paper, and one large, blank bound book.

When he returned to Impa's house to put away his new possessions, his mind kept returning to Sheik. Why hadn't he ever thought to ask who he was? Why had Zelda come disguised as Sheik at the Temple of Time, and not as someone else?

Rubbing his temples, Link sat down and began to work backward through his memories, trying to remember his initial reactions and feelings to Sheik, rather than the ones he had adjusted to fit for Zelda. He realized that he had made a connection with Sheik, perhaps even a friendship, which he had forced himself not to acknowledge for the past seven years, reasoning that it was only the princess whom he had known all along. He felt slightly cheated, but also guilty for not properly mourning his separation from Sheik. Another thought occurred to him—could Sheik exist in this time? Zelda had not mentioned it, but he was certain that Impa would know. He made a mental note to write to her soon.

Link went into the back washroom with a short knife and, using the looking glass as a guide, lopped off his ponytail. He stared at the bundle of tethered hair for a long minute before cropping the runaway locks that reached down to his neck. Feeling satisfied with the lightness and shape of the cut, he discarded the old ponytail and returned to the bedroom to change his clothing. He pulled off his brown and red brocaded rough-spun tunic and tattered, graying undershirt and pulled on a lighter, indigo-colored tunic with long sleeves. He changed from his dark wool slacks to a slimmer pair made of pale sepia-colored broadcloth. Link was unaccustomed to seeing himself in clothes that fit his figure so closely, and he admired his new reflection in the glass for a moment before heading back out into the town.

He soon found a road that led to the windmill, and from there, amidst attractive new homes and storefronts, he was able to find the library building on the northeast road. The library was a tall two story building with broad, yellow doors and two chimneys, with long decorative beams of wood that flanked the windows and door and divided the stuccoed exterior in two. He entered quietly, and after encountering no one, began wandering through the stacks, trying to orient himself. After drifting past countless genealogical volumes, he found his way to the history section, where he carefully examined one dusty spine after another.

"Can I help you find something?"

Link turned and was surprised to find a girl of about thirteen years peering up at him from behind an armful of books. She wore two brown braids in her hair and a simple blue dress with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

"No… well, yes, actually. I'm trying to find the section for Hyrule's legends and myths."

The girl rested her books on a cart and motioned for Link to follow her. They took a circuitous path in and out of the rows of books until the girl stopped in front of one of the end stacks by the south windows. She stepped across a sunbeam and squatted down to the lowest shelf.

"You'll find some of them here," she said, pointing to a few thin, tattered, copies.

Link knelt beside her and selected a book, and began leafing through the illustrated pages.

"Are they all children's books?"

"These ones are," she replied.

"Are there any others?"

"What's wrong with these?"

"Nothing, they're—"

"You should take one home. Here are my favorites." She placed two books in his hands, 'The Legend of the Hero of Time' and 'The Creation of Hyrule.'

"Start with these, please," she added.

Link narrowed his eyes at her, but could not help from smiling. She smiled back at him.

"You are going to need a library card."

She led him to the front desk and he followed, taking in the fine decorative woodwork between the windows, the dim torches, and the many rows of books that reached up to the balcony on the second floor.

After making Link swear an oath to bring the books back in a timely manner or risk facing financial penalties, the girl handed him a small rectangle of parchment that bore the library's name and address.

"Wait. Tell me your name," she said, taking the card back.

"Link."

"Link from where?" she asked.

"Link from… it's probably easiest just to put Kakariko."

"But you're not from here. I've never seen you once."

"Yes, but I'm here now," he said.

She shook her head. "Another town name, please."

Link hesitated for a moment. "Olous."

"Where is that?"

"Far away, beyond M."

She nodded approvingly and wrote his name on the card, and then handed him a ledger book filled with names and signatures.

"If you could just sign here… thank you. Well, Mr. Link, we hope to see you again soon."

She handed the card back to him. Link thanked her for her help and exited through the yellow doors, well-used books in hand.

At sunrise, Link saddled his horse and rode toward the Kokiri forest. He dismounted at the tightly wooded entrance to the Lost Woods and waded into the thick brush until he found the remnants of a trail. He was too tall to access the shortcuts under the shrubs and through the rotted, toppled tree trunks, but his memory served him well enough, and he was soon in the first clearing.

He heard whispers from fairies or spirits or the Kokiri that chilled him as he walked.

"I'm not frightened, you know. I used to live here," he announced loudly to the trees and shrubs.

"This is my home," he called, but it was not his home.

He reached another clearing and the woods began to thin into huge, soaring, ancient trees, decorated at the ground level by moss and vines, wreathed in canopies that let only trickles of light down to the forest floor. He walked for nearly an hour, stumbling upon sunny meadows and shaded ponds, until he found his way down into the eerie hedge maze that led to the gates of the Forest Temple.

Out of the maze, about a hundred yards away, he saw the golden glow of a lone fairy hovering over an old tree stump. As he drew nearer, Link's oldest and dearest friend Saria took form within the humid green landscape.

"Link," she said, "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gone."

Seven years had passed and she remained a child. His heart broke for her as much as it envied her.

"Saria." Link took her hands and knelt down before her.

She covered him in kisses and stepped back to behold him at eye level.

"You were hurt and sick; you've worked with strange herbs and metals; you've killed men. Your heart and your mind are restless." She kissed his palms. "You are going to write your story?"

Link winced at her synopsis. "Yes. And how are you?"

"The temple called me," she said, "but nothing is wrong. Do you want to play a game?"

Link had so many questions for her, but he thought it best to wait. "Ok."

"I'll hide in the maze," said Saria.

Link turned his back and counted a full minute while gazing up at the ruins of the Forest Temple entrance. He lowered his eyes and felt the chill of repetition, of having once stood exactly where he was standing now, staring pathetically upward. He turned around again and half expected to see Sheik, but found only the quiet, deep forest. Link briskly walked into the hedge maze in search of his friend.

After finding her once and giving up twice, Saria walked with Link back to the temple meadow and sat down on the grass.

"Do you know why the temple called you?" asked Link, still flushed from running.

"I think I need to be near it, to guard it, to keep its secrets safe."

Link swallowed and became serious. "Do you… remember anything from the Other Time?"

She smiled. "You asked me once before, and I told you I didn't. I still don't really… but, well… I think the memories are all in there." She pointed up at the temple. "We could go in together sometime, and remember."

"Can we go now?" he asked.

"Sure! Can you still climb?"

Saria climbed one of the trees flanking the temple and lowered herself down onto the porch. Link trailed more slowly, taking care not to use the same skinny branches that Saria had climbed with such ease. He followed her inside and immediately pulled out the folded sword that he kept tucked in his boot.

"You won't be needing that. It is at peace."

She led him through the atrium into the grand hall.

"Look, Link. See how Time is trapped."

Link's eyes scanned the room. He saw glowing chandeliers out of the corner of one eye that turned into brassy, moss covered ruins as he shifted his gaze. He watched the marble floor float between finely polished and ravished by floodwaters and vines. It was a strange thing to watch, as if two different points in history were chasing each other through the room, but only when Link searched for it, or focused too long in one place. Otherwise, the temple was dormant, appearing in one phase or another.

Saria led him to the west courtyard, and they sat on the grass beside the stone well.

"Do you remember now?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, her face unsmiling for the first time.

Link took out his notebook and unraveled the leather twine as Saria spoke of her pain in being separated from Link and from the other children, of traveling between realms, of hiding in the temple from foul creatures when it became cursed.

"And then I met Sheik," she said.

Link's eyes snapped up. "Really? What was he like?"

"He was kind, but very quiet. He listened to me talk about you and sometimes he laughed. He wanted to help you."

Link hungrily listened to her words, anxious to learn something about his lost friend.

"And soon after that you came back and broke the curse," she continued.

Saria continued to talk about Link and the temple until her cheeks were flushed with emotion, though Link's thoughts were busy fitting the new detail in with his old memories. He remembered Sheik had said, "The sage is a girl I am sure you know…" and now it came to light that they had spent time together; talked of him.

Saria stood and Link followed. She led him back to the entrance and down the tree and rubbed her eyes sleepily when they reached the ground. Night was quickly approaching. She did not say another word but walked hand-in-hand with Link back to the forest village, where Link parted from Saria after seeing her back to her house. Link walked through the village slowly, taking in the sweet summer night air, and paused for a moment outside his childhood home. The treehouse was dark, overgrown, and in a state of slight disrepair.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, and, not feeling tired enough to camp, briskly walked across the bridge to the entrance of the village where he had left his horse.

* * *

Link arrived around dawn and slept through most of the next morning. He remained in bed for the afternoon and leafed through the two books he had borrowed with some interest. The story of the gods and the creation of the Triforce was just as he remembered it told by Zelda. 'The Hero of Time' amused him. It was a fantastical tale of a warrior clad in green who smote an evil beast with the Master Sword, traveling through time to break the monster's curse. With his index finger, he traced the image of the hero in one of the illustrations. There was no mention of a princess, or a Sheikah guide, or anything very specific about the sages. Still, Link was grateful to have read the legend in its most distributed form: as a bedtime story for children.

Link got himself dressed early in the afternoon and returned to the library with the well-loved legends. He placed them on the front desk and began to walk through the stacks in search of more detailed accounts. He perused the first floor—natural history and scientific texts, popular novels, children's books, classical literature—and then walked up the creaky wood stairs to the second floor holdings. The air was a little warmer and thick with the odor of musty parchment and old leather. Link soon found a section with very old histories and maps of Hyrule, including a book called "Folklore of the Hylians." He carefully pulled it off the shelf, leaving fingerprints in the dust, and set off to find a place to read it.

He turned the corner and looked up at a worker atop a stepstool who was re-shelving a book. Link stopped dead in his tracks. He felt the large volume slip from his arms as his eyes pored over the familiar figure in absolute disbelief. The book hit the ground with a loud SLAM.

The shelver hurried down from the stool and bent over the fallen book. He gave Link a reproving glance.

"Please be more careful," he said, picking up the large volume. He looked up at the shelf he had left untidy and then back at Link. "Can I help you find anything?"

When Link's eyes met the shelver's, he knew he had found him. He recognized his lidded, dark, amber brown eyes and sarcastic eyebrows, and could not keep from gawking at the slender, lovely nose and full, bow-shaped lips that were missing from his memory, hidden always behind a reticent cowl. Golden locks of hair fell across his forehead and curled down above his eyes—shorter than Link remembered. He surveyed the other man's willowy frame and the polite, curious energy in his gesture.

He was certain that it was Sheik.

But how different Sheik looked in a time of peace! He was dressed in a loose white cotton shirt with long sleeves and tiny buttons, dark brown slim-fitting slacks, and plain leather shoes. Around his waist he wore a canvas half-apron with tools and scraps of paper and fabric tucked into the pockets—an artisan of some kind, Link mused. He searched his eyes again, and was disappointed not to find any sign of recognition in Sheik's.

He blinked self-consciously, realizing that he was staring. "Yes," he breathed. "I'm looking for Hyrule's legends."

Sheik scanned Link's countenance with a look of deliberation. "Legends," he repeated.

He placed the large book back into Link's hands and led him to a wing separate from the rest of the stacks. Link followed, his heart racing, as he had felt Sheik's hand graze across his when he gave him the book. It was just the sort of tactile proof that Link had been longing for since talking to the princess; proof that Sheik actually existed in this strand of time, that he was not just a phantom.

Link found himself in the very back corner of the far wing, standing before a section filled with bound volumes of all sizes with gold tooled titles and designs nestled into an orderly nook.

"Is there a particular story you're looking for?" asked Sheik.

Link was thrilled to watch his mouth as he spoke.

"The Hero of Time and the Temples," replied Link.

Sheik raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He turned away and began to scan the books at eye-level, his fingertip dragging across the spines until he found one book, pulled it down, and placed it on top of the folklore book in Link's arms. He bent down and continued his search on the next shelf.

"You're new to town—from Olous?" he asked.

"Yes," said Link.

"Ilsia told me about you. You don't sound like you're from Olous, though." He added two more books to Link's stack.

"No," replied Link.

"Start with those—there may be other instances of the story in some of the compilations. What brings you to Kakariko?" Sheik asked, standing again.

Link shrugged and looked away. "Research," he said vaguely.

"I see…" Sheik looked him over for a moment. "I suppose we'll be seeing you often then. My name is Tallyn; I am the bookbinder here. Please let me know if I can help with anything."

"Tallyn?" Link said in disbelief. He quickly recovered. "Tallyn," he said again, "My name is Link." He shifted the books to his left arm and held out his right hand.

Tallyn firmly shook his hand.

"Link… it's nice to meet you. Your name is a popular one in this area, though for a younger generation."

Link smiled uneasily. "How about that."

Tallyn looked at him curiously for a moment before pointing out the tables and carrels where Link might sit to read. He thanked him shakily as they parted.

Link sat down at one of the long tables with his stack of books and began leafing through one of the smaller volumes. He turned the pages quickly, hardly glancing at the words on the page, his mind filled with the reappearance of his friend. He was delighted to finally glimpse Sheik's face, shocked at how beautiful he was, and relieved that a scar or deformity was not the reason for his hiding it away during the Other Time. He thought about the two names, Sheik and Tallyn, and tried to weigh which was more likely to be his real name.

He was surprised to learn that Sheik would have been a bookbinder before the events of the Other Time, since he could only imagine him in trees, in the desert; swift, agile; telling legends to the Hero. Link imagined a younger Sheik training diligently in the library, until the day when fate pried him away and molded him into a warrior, a guide. Hands that mended books had to learn to tear apart enemies and to pluck the strings of an ancient lyre. He wondered how much time Sheik had been given to adjust to his new life, and where he had lived, and with whom he had trained. Link allowed himself to mope for a few minutes over how little he actually knew about him, but ultimately resolved that he would befriend Sheik, or Tallyn, in this life—memories or not.

* * *

He found the girl who had helped him the day before reading in a sprawled position in a great armchair. Her eyes stole up at Link when he approached.

"Can I borrow these books?" he asked.

Ilsia sat up and shook her head. "We don't circulate the rare books, you can only read them here. If you want, I can set up a shelf and reading space for you."

Link frowned. "Well... sure, ok."

Ilsia marked her page and led Link back upstairs to the room beyond the table where he had been reading. She took the books from his hands and placed them on the shelf below the window.

"Link from Oh-loos?" she asked, fishing in her dress pocket for a piece of paper.

"Yes," he replied.

Ilsia wrote his name in a youthful cursive script and slipped it into a wooden slot.

"I'm Ilsia," she said.

"Yes, Sh… Tallyn told me. Nice to meet you."

She cocked her head sideways to read the spines of his books.

"Tallyn is letting you look at the old legends?"

Link shrugged. "Why wouldn't he?"

Ilsia mirrored his shrug. "It's been a long time since anyone has been allowed to, that's all." She looked him over once more. "I'll see you later, Link from Olous."

The girl's interest in his books rekindled his own. He sat down at his new desk and began to read again.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and shot straight up, unaware that he had been napping. He turned to his left and saw Tallyn standing before him. Some time had passed. Out the window, the sun was low in the sky and the waning light spilled across Tallyn, bathing him in sharp shadows and gold.

"We're closing now. You can come back tomorrow morning, if you'd like," he said with a small smile.

Link stood and observed the difference in their heights. Though he was tall, Tallyn was a few inches shorter than him, just as he remembered Sheik to be. He did his best to compose himself.

"Tallyn," he said, the name feeling unnatural on his lips, "Ilsia mentioned that no one has been allowed to read these books for some time. Why is that?"

Tallyn raised his eyebrows. "In truth, hardly anyone has asked to see them in many years. But the last person who used them for research was Ganondorf, the Gerudo leader from the west, and he attempted to unseat the king using the secrets in these books… I'm sure you can understand our hesitation to circulate them, particularly to foreigners."

Link's mouth had fallen slightly ajar.

"You've heard of him, even from outside of Hyrule?"

Link nodded and looked away. "Yeah." He gathered his pencils and blank book, feeling Tallyn's eyes heavily upon him.

"I'll show you out," he said.

They descended the stairs and went out the door into the hot evening. Link's hands were tingling with the knowledge that the books he was reading were last handled by his twice-slain enemy. Tallyn locked the door behind them.

"I have to admit, I'm very curious about your research. I hope you'll share with me whatever it is you're looking for, when you find it," he said.

Link smiled. "I will."

* * *

Link went back to the library two more days in a row and was disappointed to glimpse Tallyn only once or twice. He dedicated himself to the task of reading, but frequently stopped to look around for him, and even took to standing and pacing alongside the balcony, sneaking glances at the bindery on the floor below.

Late in the afternoon on that last day of the week, Link saw Tallyn sit down at the front desk after helping a patron locate a book. When Link approached, he saw that he was drawing neat lines on a sheet of translucent paper with a water-dampened brush. Tallyn put down his brush and looked up at Link, and then down again at his work. He gently tore the paper at the line, making long strips with fibrous, feathered edges. He looked up at Link again, who was still staring at his hands.

"Can I help you?"

"Maybe... I'm curious to learn more about this town and its history… I was wondering if you… if you know anyone who might show me around town?"

Tallyn smiled. "I'd be glad to."

"Really?! I could pay you something, or buy you supper, or—"

Tallyn waved his hand dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," repeated Link, "Yes, of course."

"Meet me at the library, say, at 15:00."

Link left the library, unable to contain his smile.

He woke early the next day and took extra care in washing and dressing, and swallowed down his breakfast nervously. He thought about his recent interactions with Sheik, or Tallyn, so far, and felt uncomfortably privileged to be able to talk to him candidly and make plans to meet again. Link wondered whether Tallyn was still Sheik inside, or if peace had destroyed his connection to the Sheikahs, his otherworldly wisdom, his poetic and teasing way of speaking. What if Tallyn was drab, simple, uninteresting? Would it be worth it to be his friend, if his mind was ordinary, but his eyes constantly reminded Link of the Other Time?

He left Impa's house at a minute or two before three o'clock and walked the short distance up the hill to the library. Tallyn was slouched against the door jamb reading from a pocket-sized book. He was wearing a billowy shirt dyed a deep blue color that reminded Link of the blue that Sheik used to wear. Tallyn slipped the book into the pocket of his plain slacks and grinned.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Sure," replied Link.

"Are you familiar with the North Road by now?" Tallyn asked.

"Yes," said Link, "I took it to the foot of Death Mountain the other day. Does anyone ever go up there?"

"Not really, no. The walk is pretty dangerous." He looked up at the volcano. "I can take you farther up the East Road, if you like."

Link agreed and they set off on the Souheast fork. Tallyn identified the different buildings that had been erected recently, talked about the village's Sheikah origins, mentioned how they were killed or had to escape to territories north of Hyrule. They were suddenly in a narrow valley pass that led into a field with a fenced-in cemetery.

"Do you want to walk through?" asked Tallyn.

"Yes," replied Link, scanning the field.

While Link wandered, Tallyn slowed his pace and bent down occasionally to read stones, slowly weaving his way to the large monuments at the far end. He paused for a moment at a pair of markers away from the path, and then caught up to Link at the old royal plot below a cliff. Link was scuffing at the soft dirt in front of the grave absently with his boot while gazing up at the fenced cliff above them.

"Do you know what that is?" Tallyn asked him.

A slow smile passed across Link's face.

"...it's the ruins of the Sheikah Temple, from the legends," he explained.

"The Shadow Temple," Link said quietly.

Tallyn nodded. "Yes. We used to sneak in as kids and play there."

Link looked horrified. "Did anyone get lost down there, or hurt?" he asked.

Tallyn paused. "No," he said quietly. "The temple was sealed. There was just one big room filled with cobwebs." He looked at Link curiously. "Do you mean you've heard about… about the…?"

"About what?"

Tallyn shook his head and turned away from the cliff. They continued back down the path.

"Whose grave did you stop to see?" asked Link.

Tallyn raised his eyebrows and continued looking down. "My parents'."

"Ah," said Link, "will you show me?"

Tallyn was taken aback for a moment, but led Link to the stones and stood over them again. Link squinted at the two plaques.

"They had you sort of old, didn't they?"

Tallyn smirked. "They were my foster parents."

"Oh."

They continued back through the narrow valley and onto the West road.

"Do you remember your birth parents?" asked Link.

"Not really," replied Tallyn, "they were killed during the civil war. I was only three or four years old."

Link nodded slowly. "So were mine."

They reached the windmill and Link approached the well at its base and peered down. He pushed a small stone into the black depths.

"A hundred years ago a Sheikah man lived here whose eyes, they say, could see the truth," said Tallyn, leaning on his elbows and peering down into the mouth of the well.

"What kind of truth?"

"I don't really know. The truth from a lie, what people kept hidden, who knows. It was just a legend."

"You sure know your legends," said Link.

Tallyn grinned and then looked back down at the well, where he stared for a long moment with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Tallyn?" asked Link, "you ok?"

Tallyn raised his eyes to Link's, looking slightly shaken and pale. He rubbed his temples and looked at Link strangely.

"Yes… just fine." He forced a smile. "Maybe it's true that this well is cursed."

Link was slightly alarmed at Tallyn's sudden turn, but said nothing more on the matter. They continued on the Northeast fork on the other side of the windmill, passing smaller homes, potion and curiosity shops, and closed-looking stores with heavily curtained windows. Tallyn led them down an alley that opened up to a brick street along a stream.

"It's man-made," he explained, "it was diverted down from the Death Mountain springs, and a little canal connects it to the Zora River in two places."

Link was fascinated. "I would love to see where it goes. There must be a waterfall somewhere?"

"It's about a half-hour walk; the waterfall collects into a small lake. I'll have to take you sometime."

"I'd like that," said Link.

Tallyn shielded his eyes from the low sun and looked over his shoulder. "There's one other place worth seeing."

They found their way back onto the path walking down to the central plaza, and then onto the South Road. Vendors were closing their shops as evening approached, but there was still a sizeable crowd, and Link and Tallyn found themselves separated a few times. The street grew quieter the farther south they walked, until the town's stone wall loomed before them. Tallyn led the way up a wide side-street, and then left, followed by a right and another left that revealed a moss and vine-covered staircase in the stone wall between two small shops. Link was impressed again.

"I never knew this was here," he said.

"How could you?" asked Tallyn.

"I mean, I never _would have_ known it was here," he said quickly.

"Well, come on," said Tallyn, ascending the staircase. Link followed again with wide eyes.

The stairs opened up to a wooded, overgrown plateau high above the town's tallest rooftops. Tallyn brought Link to a clearing with a lovely vista of the town.

"You can see the Goron City from here," remarked Link as he gazed out over the town.

"Pretty nice, huh?" said Tallyn quietly, taking in the view as well. "There are a few other clearings in these woods that overlook the plains too."

Link sat down in the grass and continued looking out over the town. Tallyn sat down beside him and wrapped his arms under his thighs. Link observed the familiar gesture with an amused look on his face.

"What is it?" asked Tallyn.

"Nothing." His eyes scanned the rooftops and chimneys and craggy expanses beyond the city. "How did you come to be a bookbinder?"

"My father was before me. I was his apprentice until just before he died, when he passed on the studio to me."

"Do you like it?" asked Link.

"Yes, very much. I couldn't imagine doing anything else."

Link caught his dark eyes and held them for a moment, imagining, remembering. Tallyn's eyes were deep and intelligent; they peered back at Link curiously and seemed almost to be carrying on an entirely different conversation.

Tallyn looked away. "Where in town are you staying?"

"In the southwest quarter."

"Which street?"

Link paused for a moment. "There is no street. The house sits above the Market Road."

Tallyn looked surprised, and then nodded. "Hm," he said. "Hmm. You're staying in Impa's house, aren't you?"

Link looked away, knowing it was too late to lie. "I—yes."

When he looked back at Tallyn, he saw that he was fighting to hide a smile.

"I had heard that somebody was. I think I finally understand who you are," said Tallyn.

Link stared straight ahead and tried to look calm, though his heart was racing. "Oh?"

"It was my first thought on meeting you. You're the same Link who thwarted Ganondorf's coup all those years ago, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Everything about you," replied Tallyn.

Link was quiet for a few moments. "Could you- you won't say anything, will you?"

"Of course not," said Tallyn.

Link stretched his legs out before him and looked back over Kakariko.

"So that means this research, this is for…?" asked Tallyn.

Link shook his head. "It's a long story."

"I can imagine."

The setting sun to the west bathed them in an orange glow, reflected brightly off their fair hair, and cast long shadows beside them.

"This is a nice place," remarked Link.

"Yes. One of my favorites."

"Will you show me some others?"

Tallyn chuckled. "We'll see."

Link suddenly felt guilty. "Forget I said that. I don't want to take advantage of your kindness any more than I already have."

Tallyn scrunched his eyebrows together. "No, please don't say that. I'm glad to have your company."

Link blinked in surprise, feeling warmed by Tallyn's words. He could only dream of Sheik saying something so polite and kind. "You're kind to say that." he managed.

Tallyn stood and Link followed suit. At the foot of the stairs, Tallyn smiled and bid him goodnight.

"Well, Link… see you later."


	3. Chapter 3

LINK

* * *

The following week, Tallyn acknowledged Link fondly when he saw him in the library, and even offered additional recommendations for locating more obscure accounts of the legend. For his part, Link was taking careful notes on all of the sages, temples, names of villains, weapons forged or found, and basic outlines of the Hero's trials. He read slowly and indulgently, resting his eyes occasionally on the mention of a lyre, the ancient re-occurrence of the name Zelda, and the fine illustrations at the start of each chapter.

In the middle of the next week, at the height of the afternoon when Link felt most inclined to fidget and rub the back of his craning neck, Tallyn stopped by his workspace with an apologetic look on his face.

"Link, I'm closing a bit early today. I hope you don't mind," he said.

"Oh? That's all right," replied Link, rubbing his eye.

"A friend of mine has just gotten engaged, and everybody's going out for drinks. You should come too."

"You don't think they'd mind?"

"Of course not—the more, the merrier."

Link tidied his desk while Tallyn snuffed the lamps and closed his shop downstairs. He met him down by the door and they left together into the balmy late afternoon. The tavern was across town on the west end, and so Tallyn took the time to explain who his friend was, what he did, how long they had known each other, and so forth, while Link listened attentively. It turned out that the groom-to-be was a cabinetmaker named Eleos who had a passion for musical instruments. Eleos was a few years older than Tallyn, but they had been schooled together and came to participate in the same craftsmen's guild in recent years, and had always been friendly.

They entered the establishment and found it relatively empty save for a few solitary drinkers at the bar, a small group of women sipping tea and embroidering, and a large group gathered around a long table. Tallyn generously introduced Link to his friends, and Link offered his congratulations to the groom-to-be. They took a seat diagonal from each other at the end of the table, and were welcomed with a tall tankard of ale and a strong shotglass of spirit. Tallyn raised his glass and smiled at Link before slipping into conservation with the man beside him.

Link let his eyes linger on Tallyn for just a moment, until he too was pulled away into conversation. He heard himself answer questions vaguely, sometimes lying outright about where he had lived and why he was here.

"And what about you?" he asked politely, his mind miles away.

He could only imagine what his other self would have thought about the idea of sitting in a pub with his guide Sheik, enjoying a pint together. He caught himself smiling, which attracted Tallyn's eyes, which held his own for a few seconds with a small smile before blinking away.

Link meditated for a moment on Tallyn's kindness and inclination toward friendship, and wondered if the same amiability had ever lurked beneath Sheik's aloof manners.

It must have, he thought, remembering the smile in Sheik's eyes when he had waited for him at the lake. While he had rarely spoken candidly with Link, he had laid a hand on his wet shoulder and confessed that he had been worried about him.

The man who had been talking to Tallyn stood and approached the bartender for another round. Tallyn slid down to the end of the bench to sit across from Link.

"Do you know the girl who Eleos is marrying?" Link asked.

"Yes," he replied, "She's a year younger than me. She's... very nice, has pretty hair..." his eyes searched beyond Link."I don't see her, but she's usually with those women, embroidering." He gestured in the direction with a slight nod.

Link turned, drawing eyes and small smiles from the group.

"Could be worse," Tallyn added.

Link looked at him curiously. "Do you mean to say that _you_ have it worse?"

Tallyn looked away. "Oh, no," he said, "…it's just, you know..." He looked up at Link, "The expectation, I guess."

"Yes," agreed Link, fascinated at his failure to articulate. "So which one has expectations for you?"

"Dark hair." He busied himself with folding a cloth napkin. "Her name is Laina."

"Do you like her?" asked Link. He immediately imagined Tallyn as Sheik with a Sheikah wife and several Sheikah children clad traditionally, milling about the library's bindery. The thought of Sheik married struck him as odd, if not absurd.

Tallyn shrugged. "The one in blue is looking at you."

Link cast a furtive glance over his shoulder. "Really?"

"You should go talk to her."

Link shrugged.

"Why not?" asked Tallyn.

"It's pointless."

"You're a fool if you think that."

"I guess I'm a fool, then." Link looked back at Tallyn with a smile.

Tallyn pursed his lips. "Very well," he said, picking up his tankard of ale. "To foolishness."

Link clanked glasses with him. They both were quiet for a moment, absently tracing the condensation on their cold mugs.

"I won't be back until next week," said Link.

"Where are you going?" asked Tallyn.

"To Death Mountain."

"To Death Mountain?" Tallyn repeated skeptically.

Link nodded.

"How are you going to do that?"

He shrugged again.

Tallyn sat back and regarded him oddly, unable to fully believe him. "Why?" he asked.

Link drained his tankard, placed a few coins on the table, and stood to leave. "For research."

* * *

The Death Mountain pass no longer harbored enemies, but was just as treacherous and even less maintained than Link remembered. The upward path was eroded and many of the footholds crumbled and fell away as he climbed. After the better part of two hours, he reached the caverns where he had driven out a nest of ancient dodongo dragons when he was a child.

While searching for a safe place to sit and take his lunch among explosive plants and jagged stones, Link discovered a small stone, rounder and more unusual than the rest. It was striated and heavy like marble, but in the shape of a chicken's egg, only larger. Certain that he had destroyed all of the dodongos that Ganondorf had revived, Link was puzzled to see current evidence of their existence. He looked out at the mouth of the cave, and suddenly felt the weight of the egg disappear from his hands. His eyes darted back to it, and he once again felt the heaviness of the object in his hand, though its appearance flickered and wavered beneath his gaze. He tucked the egg into his pack, curious to see if it could continue to exist outside of the cave.

Link reached the Goron City by early evening. He stood at the top of the cliff by the city's gates and looked down at red roofs and glimmering lights of Kakariko below, trying to pick out the little clearing where Tallyn had shown him the view of the mountain. He poured cool water onto his hands and washed away the dirt from his climb before entering the city.

The morning Link was granted a visit with the Goron leader, Darunia. He offered him herbs and mushrooms from the forest in exchange for a visit to the Fire Temple. The leader had accepted his gift curtly and allowed Link into the temple beyond the city walls. Link wrapped himself in a cloak made from heat-expelling fibers that he had acquired across the sea, and followed Darunia into the crater.

Before the gods of fire, Darunia and Link became brothers again. Time danced across the walls of the Fire Temple as it had in the forest, flashing images of prison bars between the gilded entranceways. They laughed and mourned together while Link took notes, practically incising the words into this book with a smoldering stylus.

When they returned to the city, Darunia told a story about the impressive youth who had braved the heat of the crater to tell him of the Hero's coming.

"He believed in you with all of his heart," he said. "He told me what you had become, and what role I was to play. I was so proud, so deeply proud."

Link was invited to stay and dine with the Goron elders, and he accepted gratefully. The cook prepared roasted meat for him and a certain rock found in a mineral vein far below the volcano for the others. After the meal when most of the elders had departed, Darunia bade Link to stay. Link told him stories of the battles he fought in, the work he had done, and great people he had met while Darunia listened. He sat quietly for a moment when Link had finished speaking.

"But have you found peace?" he asked.

"Peace?" repeated Link. "How could I ever be at peace? It is impossible to rest, or to do anything that has meaning in this life, after what we've done."

"You're a fool if you think that peace is meaningless. Wandering, picking fights... it is these things that lack meaning."

Link opened his mouth to protest, but Darunia held up his huge hand.

"Our purpose in this life is as meaningful as that of the Other Time; it is different, but not inferior. Our bloodlines are sacred, chosen by the gods, and we are responsible for furthering the next generation of good, courageous people who will go on to be the fathers or grandfathers of heroes and sages."

Link laughed. "So you are saying our purpose in this life is fatherhood?"

Darunia frowned. "Brother, there is no one purpose, nor are there separate lives. This life you live is an extension of the life you lived before, and the life before that. The only way to reach the gods is to live deliberately and honorably."

Link shook his head with a smile and looked out across the room disinterestedly. "I suppose," he said.

"One day you will understand." Darunia drained his wine and stood. "You are young yet. I bid you goodnight, Hero."

* * *

The next morning, Link continued his ascent. He worked his way up the craggy, pitched Goron trail, resting at midday, until he at last reached the base of the volcano. It took the entire afternoon to sidle and climb up the jagged cliff face—when he finally reached the top, Link was covered in dirt and scrapes.

The summit of Death Mountain was small and the air was hot and thin. A wall of rock was all that separated Link from the volcanic crater, and beyond the wall was an old grotto that used to house a powerful faerie. Link set up his camp by the wall, and then shed layers of clothing until he was down to his undergarments and hunting knife. He took his small, earthenware ocarina that Saria had given him, and entered the hot cave that lay before him.

Link followed the cavernous path that spiraled downward into the volcano, ducking occasionally to avoid bats and vents of hot steam. He took the narrow side path he remembered and found himself at last at the faerie's spring. He walked across the damp marble path to the symbol of the triple goddess that was set into the floor in yellow quartz stone. Link held his arms for a moment to steady his nerves, and gazed out at the shallow fountain before him in the dead end hollow of the cave. Was this truly the place where he was taught to wield magic? Would the messengers of the gods answer his call even now? What did he hope they would tell him, if they came? Link suddenly regretted coming to the spring. He hesitated for a moment, looking down at the ocarina in his hand, and with a sigh he brought it to his lips and played the ancient calling song that he had been taught in the Other Time.

The notes echoed throughout the cave, but no faerie emerged. Link scolded himself for having such high hopes; for after all, what cause had the gods to speak to a once-hero, a mere mortal? He was certain that his destiny was greater than recording past events in a book, and he had hoped to ask the faerie about his purpose in this time, and if the gods might restore some measure of the strength he once possessed. Though his pride was hurt and he was left with unanswered questions, Link removed his clothing anyway and stepped into the fountain, determined at least to return to town in a purified state.

He retired to his camp at the sulfurous ledge, dripping, but soon dry, and feeling more drained and weakened than invigorated. He was disappointed, mortified to have lost this connection to the past. As he fished through his bag for some dried provisions, his hand brushed against something smooth and cold. He lifted the fossilized egg out of the bag and examined it curiously in the waning light. He was not entirely surprised to be holding it in his hands. The resurrected egg was another time traveler, another artifact that somehow slipped into a different world, like the linen wrappings, like himself. He wondered indulgently whether he could lure back lost memories with these impossible tokens from a time forgotten.

He was thinking of Sheik in particular, Sheik who, unlike the sages, was not called by the temples, and therefore had no opportunity to stumble across a hidden strand of time. Could he be friends with Sheik again, he wondered, without the past? Link began to doubt that they were ever even friends. He remembered awakening on a ledge deep inside the volcano, and as his senses painfully returned to him, he had felt someone's hands elevating his arm and gently bandaging a stinging wound. As the figure came into focus, he saw that it was Sheik, his cryptic guide, who must have been just steps behind him to have prevented him from falling to his death. When he had finished his work, he raised his eyes to Link's, shyly, but not without a hint of pride.

"You must be more careful," he admonished.

Link mulled over whether that had been an act of friendship, or if Sheik had only saved him because it was necessary. He went back to that moment when he was just coming to, when his then childish memory had recalled Saria, the closest thing he had had to a mother, who had looked after him when he was young and took care of him when he was scared or hurt. He had felt as safe with Sheik as he ever had with Saria; he had trusted him completely and helplessly. The act of remembering the soft, indirect touching made Link's stomach flip.

He chased the feeling away with a fistful of dried figs; crunchy, arid, wanting in flavor.

They had met at every milestone in the hero's journey- at the gates of each temple, and in the moments following each dispelled curse. But friendship? Link remembered feeling more in awe of Sheik, of his mystery, his wisdom, and strength. He longed to know more, to be told stories, to be guided. In a word, he worshipped him, but had no idea how Sheik had felt about him.

Another time, in the desert- the last time, in fact- Link remembered how he had slowly lowered his ocarina and looked back at Sheik.

"You didn't mention that we will meet again," said Link.

Sheik was silent, and looked away evasively.

"I see," said Link.

Sheik turned and fixed his eyes on Link's. "All journeys must come to an end. Good luck, Hero of Time. The gods are with you." He took a step backward.

Link's eyes widened. "But wait- before you go! Would you-? This is stupid."

Sheik shifted awkwardly.

"Would you give me a token that I can carry?"

"Hero..." began Sheik in a surprised tone.

"I just mean, there's no one else," he gestured widely at the desert, "There's no one else in the whole world who knows what I am setting out to do. Just you."

Sheik continued to regard him curiously, and after a moment he unraveled a length of the linen wrappings from his wrist and cut it roughly. Link watched his armor slide out of place, revealing his lovely, pale, vulnerable wrist. Sheik advanced and held out his fist, gently closed around the ribbon. Link accepted it with both hands, perceiving a nervous tremor in Sheik's fingers as he collected the warm wrappings. Sheik retracted his hand and, hesitating for a second, reached out and touched Link on the shoulder.

"Good luck," he repeated in a soft voice, "I believe in you."

Sheik gazed back at Link for a long moment. He looked as if he was going to say something more, but he instead took a step backward just as the wind blew a pillar of sand between them, and then he was gone.

After that, he remembered that he had taken shelter inside the temple, feeling sick to his stomach and devastated, and cried his eyes out against the sandstone wall. His heart was broken and he was alone. He unsheathed his sword and fastened the long strip of fabric to the hilt with two square knots, where it still remains.

Link had previously shrugged off this memory when he believed Sheik to be Zelda, but now it stung him with embarrassment. What had prompted him to ask for a token? He remembered one time when a group of girls asked him if he was a knight while he was recovering in Kakariko, who then decorated his sword and bow with kerchiefs and flowers- tokens, favors, they called them. He blamed his young mind, for this was not something he would ask of a friend now, especially not a male friend. He imagined that he had made Sheik feel rather uncomfortable.

He recalled again Sheik's deep, complicated eyes, his trembling hand, and the waver in his tone; and then he imagined it all again, and again, until he too began to feel a bit uncomfortable.


	4. Chapter 4

TALLYN

* * *

It was early morning when Tallyn went out for a run. The sky was still dark and streaked with murky clouds, and pockets of mist hung around the well and river. He ran through the outskirts of town, down side streets, and around the cemetery before anyone was awake to see him.

As he flew past the grave markers, he thought about the books that were waiting for him in the library. Books to be bound, books to be repaired, books to be read. Tallyn's whole life, books had been the primary focus; as a child, he had immersed himself in books at school, and then went straight to the library to hammer and paste and sew books until supper time. He continued to apprentice throughout his youth and gradually assumed more responsibilities, until two years ago when his father bequeathed him the bindery just before his death.

He jogged uphill, high above the dead, beyond the Sheikah Temple, up the winding path, now overlooking the village. He paused for a moment to take in the view and watch the summerflowers lazily wave in the breeze. This was the spot he had recently taken Link, the researcher from far away who was combing through Hyrulian legends. Only, he wasn't from away. He was, as the story went, a boy from the forest who had stumbled upon a planned attack on the throne, and thwarted it. A little hero, now grown.

Link's innate curiosity and friendly disposition appealed to Tallyn immediately. He noticed that Link was an attentive listener, modest, but assertive and socially engaging. His manners at times seemed foreign or mixed; he made eye contact that bordered on intrusive, but he was quiet and reserved, though he exuded great warmth and sincerity. He found him to be very handsome, but in the ordinary way, and he suspected that he had left a trail of broken hearts in his past. Tallyn hoped that they could become friends.

He was almost certain that he was compiling a list, a book, something, at the request of the royal family—the fact that Link was staying at Impa's house was evidence enough. But to what end?

He caught sight of the rising sun and cursed; he would be late.

Stopping home to wash and dress, Tallyn soon made it to the library. He heard two laughing voices and was surprised to find Ilsia engaged in conversation with Link the researcher, Link the child hero, in one of the sunny reading nooks. Ilsia jumped up to greet Tallyn.

"Tallyn! Look what Link has brought for me!" She unfurled her hands and presented a small red stone carved into a flower.

Tallyn glanced down at the stone. The bindery was not the only thing that he had inherited when his parents died—there was also Ilsia. In his father's later years, he had developed a soft spot for the young girl. He allowed her to take lessons in the library and to stay as long as she liked each day in exchange for a few chores. Before long, Ilsia had memorized the stacks and read an alarming number of books in the collection. Tallyn had always been very fond of her and her hungry mind, and came to regard her as a younger sister.

He looked back down at her hands and then her smiling face and felt struck by how mature and pretty she was becoming, no longer a child, but a sort of girl-woman chimera. He then looked over at Link, who was grinning widely.

"You're here early," remarked Tallyn. "That looks expensive."

"I am. And it wasn't. It's just a trinket from the Goron City."

Tallyn looked dubiously at the stone that Ilsia held.

"I brought something for you too," said Link, reaching into his leather bag. He pulled out an egg-shaped stone and walked over to Tallyn and placed it in his hand.

Tallyn took a moment to admire the heft of the stone and its strange marbled surface. He looked back up at Link and smiled at him uncertainly.

"Thank you. Um, what is it?"

"It's a dodongo dragon egg. I found it in a cave on the mountain."

Tallyn gasped. "It's… Link, if that's true, then this is truly very rare." He turned it in his hands and continued to examine it. "Why give it away? I'm sure you could sell it for quite a lot."

"I saw a few other rocks on your desk, I thought you might like it." Link shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I, ah, wanted you to believe me." He raised his relentless blue eyes to Tallyn's.

Tallyn could not immediately find words. "Oh. Well, sure, I believe you," he said with a shrug.

"You do?"

"Yes. Why shouldn't I? You seem to be here under somewhat unusual circumstances. It's within reason that you might have some… unusual business to attend to." He held the egg back out to Link.

Link walked away and picked up his bag. "I want you to have it."

* * *

The day continued much like any other, though Tallyn felt distracted but glad for Link's presence. He took breaks from his work to casually research the heavy stone, and was surprised to find descriptions and illustrations that suggested it was indeed a fossilized dodongo egg. He marveled at the object, and even more at Link.

After lunch, Link approached him in the bindery with a strange request.

"Are there any Goron legends in the collection?"

Tallyn thought for a moment. "If we have a translation, it would be with the big texts in the basement. I can certainly check."

"You mean there are more books below ground?" Link asked, stepping forward.

Tallyn smiled at Link's enthusiasm. "I suppose you want to see for yourself?"

He led him through the bindery and down the steps to the below-ground holdings. The air was cool and dry, and neat shelves full of unusually shaped books spanned the stone floor.

Tallyn explained that the library had collected books from all of the diverse peoples of Hyrule—the submerged, scaly bindings encasing pages of fish parchment from the Zoras were among the rarest and most unusual, rivaled only by the large, metallic Goron texts. He located a thin, pamphlet-bound book high on a shelf and handed it to Link.

"This is our only copy, so please don't lose it. You can give it directly to me when you're finished, I doubt Ilsia knows where it goes." He paused for a moment, and glanced up at Link. "Do you want to see the original text?"

"Thank you. And yes, I would love to."

Tallyn pulled a huge object from a low shelf nearby and placed it on one of the reading pedestals.

"Here is our copy of the _Goron Myths and Legends_."

He gently pried open the heavy ceramic case revealing manuscript pages on sheets of hammered white tin. Link drew in a breath and stepped closer to the book, closer to him; so close that Tallyn could feel the heat from his body and detect the scent of his herbal soap. He was so close that he touched against Tallyn with his arm, alarming him with his other-culture manners, his earnest curiosity. He was about to forgive him for forgetting that he was in Hyrule (cold; proper; personal space), when Link dared to reach in front of him with his left hand, strangely covered with a cloth wrapping, and begin to turn the page.

"Wait—" urged Tallyn, though it was he himself who waited and then swallowed the rest of his words, for the gentle, reverent way in which Link handled the delicate pages caught him completely off guard.

"It's illustrated," Link remarked with wide eyes, and glanced over at Tallyn. Perceiving his surprise at his nimble handling, he added, "I used to turn pages in books like this for the monks in Olous. Only they had books made of lead and copper."

"Lead and copper," Tallyn repeated breathily, "how very interesting."

How very interesting, indeed, to observe this stranger at so close a range. His eyes followed his careful hands and strong arms up to his face, which was absorbed in the pictures and words embossed in the tin. It struck him that Link's beauty was anything but ordinary, for though his features were very pleasing and symmetrical, he lacked any trace of vanity and the self-assured smugness that beautiful people often possessed. It was as if he had no idea how handsome he was.

For some reason, Tallyn found that his heart was beating rapidly. He was relieved when Link withdrew his hand and leaned his weight away from him, as if suddenly aware of his intrusion. Tallyn awkwardly put the book away, and Link took the cue to follow him again up the stairs.

* * *

Over the course of the week, Tallyn scarcely went a day without seeing Link, who was in the habit of arriving early at the library and staying until close. They were attracted to each other by a common bookishness, and seemed never to run out of curious passages or observations to discuss.

They brushed past one another on the last day of the week, each meeting the other's eyes with a certain shyness that served only to mask how much they still wanted to say to each other.

The week-end arrived, and Tallyn set out for the lake under the Death Mountain falls. He took a picnic lunch, book, and a blanket and indolently made his way across town to the little river, and then through the grassy plains to the quiet lake.

A small group of his friends were already there where he arrived, lounging in the rocky sand and rough-housing like boys in the water. A few acknowledged him with a lazy wave, while others excitedly called to him and tried to soak him as he walked by. He acknowledged them and kept walking to the peaceful spot he loved, where there were ample shade trees, pockets of sun, and smooth granite stones speckling the sand.

By now, Tallyn was hot from the walk and longed to swim. He unbuttoned his breezy cotton shirt and let it fall from his shoulders, and felt the momentary shock of air touching against his bare skin. He stepped out of his slim linen slacks, smoothed his undergarments against his thighs, and dove in, remaining underwater as long as he could, nearly making it to the middle of the narrow lake.

He paddled over to the others and fulfilled his social obligations with a quick race before swimming back to the center of the lake, around the island, over the shallow ledge, back to his place on the shore. He lay in the sun and closed his eyes, tracing the sunspots behind his eyelids and emptying his mind of all thoughts. His slow drift toward sleep was interrupted some time later by a shadow cast over him, a merciful, cool shape that blotted out the sun and enveloped him. He ignored it for a moment, wondering whether he should bother to acknowledge it, or continue feigning sleep.

"Hullo, Tal," said a voice.

"Hi," he replied, blinking open his eyes, surprised at the sound of his nickname pronounced for the first time by Link. When had they gotten so familiar? "You found the lake," he noted.

"Yeah," agreed Link. He peered at Tallyn with curious eyes, heavily blinking, devouring eyes, and then looked away. "Would it bother you if I joined you?" His gaze darted back.

"Not at all."

Link unfurled a blanket made up entirely of textile scraps stitched in neat herringbone rows, containing more richly dyed colors and more complicated patterns than Tallyn was accustomed to seeing.

"Where did you find such a beautiful thing?" Tallyn asked.

"Ah," said Link, kicking off his boots, "I picked this up in Ys, in the far east. Most every family there has a blanket or wrap like this, since they are averse to wasting anything."

Tallyn was astounded. "You've been to Ys?"

"Yes," said Link, who fondly described the colorful, dense city and their strange customs.

Tallyn ran his hand over the blanket as he listened, and when he looked up, he saw Link was undressing. He had pulled his loose shirt over his head, undid his pants, and began to shimmy them down to his hips along with his undergarments.

"Wait," said Tallyn with bulging eyes, as Link gradually exposed the strong crease of his hip followed by a tangle of hair.

Link noticed the modesty of Tallyn and the other far-off bathers and tugged off only his pants.

"You Hyrulians are very shy," he remarked.

Tallyn nodded, transfixed by the memory of his naked hip. He felt his loins stir at the sight of the researcher, semi-nude, very gorgeous, lazily stretching before him.

His competitive mind could not help but compare Link's figure to his own; he himself was leaner, whittled away by endless laps around the village, strong, but less noticeably so, darker, and shorter, if by only a few inches. He had always thought his own best attributes were in his figure, but here he had to cede everything to Link. He found him superiorly beautiful in every way, and envied him not only for such an exquisite form, but for his easy, oblivious sex appeal.

Feeling a morose mood approaching, he left Link and walked to the water's edge.

"Want to race?"

They met eyes and took off in a splashing run until the water was deep enough to dive into. They sprinted to the small island in the lake, catching glimpses of the other's limbs cutting through the water. Finally, he thought, a worthy opponent. He reached the shore only seconds before Link.

"You're fast," said Link.

Tallyn shrugged, but inwardly relished the compliment.

"Is there anything here?"

The island was a small hill and could all be taken in with a single look. There were about half a dozen small trees, tall grass, and a silty shore.

"No," said Tallyn, "not really." They looked back at the lake. "The lake is unusual; it was formed from volcanic activity. There are hot and cold pockets, and..." He walked back into the water, daring to glance back at Link (wet hair flipped back, god-body, underwear nearly transparent). "Let me show you."

They swam back out into the depths, pausing in a heated patch.

"Can you hold your breath for a long time?"

"Yes," replied Link.

"Follow me, then."

Tallyn took a deep breath and dove down through the warm water and into a cold pocket, down to the bottom of what looked like a rising shelf, and into a small opening in the rock. He increased his speed when he saw that Link was right behind him, and pushed through the rocky, narrow pass into a clearing of open water. Lungs burning, they surfaced, and headed toward the shallows.

The high cave walls loomed overhead, decorated with water-loving plants and a chandelier of brittle stalactites across the ceiling. The water was cold and clear, and the deep pool tapered into a river that circled the cave. A narrow crack in the cave's roof was just wide enough to allow a ribbon of light to pass through, which reflected off the water and onto the damp walls.

"How beautiful," said Link.

"Yes," agreed Tallyn, "if only I could figure out how to get some books down here, then I would never leave."

Link laughed. "Do you really despise people that much?"

Tallyn smirked and cast him a sideways glance. "I suppose not."

"How did you find this cave?" he asked.

"I practically lived in the water when I was young," began Tallyn. "One day, I found the opening from the land and saw water below, and knew it must be connected to this lake. I explored the entire lakebed, as far down as I could—it's not a very big lake, after all—and eventually I found the entrance."

"Does anyone else know about it?"

"Oh, sure. But no one ever wanted to come with me when I found it, and those who I persuaded ended up turning back." He shrugged. "I doubt many people remember that it exists."

They swam around the bend until it became too shallow, and walked until the stream grew dark and narrow. Link put his hand against the wall, and peered between the rock faces.

"There must be another way out?" Link asked.

"There are two more paths, but I've always gotten lost on them."

Link's eyes sparkled. "We ought to come back better dressed and with supplies, if we're going to explore it properly."

He looked through the dark at Tallyn. Tallyn looked back at him, just barely able to perceive his eyes, suddenly realizing how very alone they were, and all of the things that could possibly happen with no one ever finding out. His heart accelerated as he enumerated them in his head, waiting for Link to make a move.

"Have you ever heard of fairie springs?" asked Link.

Tallyn was relieved by the break in silence, but also disappointed that Link did not confess to feeling as threatened or aroused as he did. "Yes, of course… do you think this might have been one?"

Link shrugged. "We'll have to come back."

His heart racing, Tallyn coolly agreed and led them out of the cave, back to the lake.

* * *

Tallyn sat up after a short nap, feeling the sun's heat on his shoulders.

Link, sitting with his arms tucked under his legs, grinned at him. "Are you going to see your girl this week-end?" he asked.

"I wasn't planning on it." Tallyn turned over sleepily and dug his heels into the sand, slightly bothered by the question. "Why do you ask? Are you interested in meeting someone?"

"Of course not. I doubt I could, anyway."

"Are you crazy? You could have your pick."

"How's that?" asked Link.

"You'd only need to say who you are, and you could have a hundred girls, all at once if you wanted," he paused before adding, "Besides that, you're very comely, which is a rare thing in this village."

Link blushed noticeably. "Not so rare as you think," he mumbled, letting his eyes rest on Tallyn's lithe figure.

Was that a returned compliment? He felt his own face grow hot, so he shielded it with his hand rather casually, as if the sun were in his eyes.

Link furrowed his brows. "But what I meant is that I shouldn't. Now's not the time." He turned to face Tallyn. "By the way, I'm a little mad that you found out that secret."

"It was your own fault for being so obvious."

"I think you owe me one of yours."

Tallyn smirked. "You can have it, if it's something you can work out for yourself."

"Ah, so there is something," declared Link.

He shook his head. "Do I really seem like someone who has secrets?"

"Everyone has secrets," Link replied.

Tallyn shrugged and looked away, sensing another probe into his apocryphal love life.

"Why do you hide the fact that… you are Sheikah?" He said the last word with great care.

Tallyn could not help betraying his absolute shock. He turned to Link, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping at first, and then he promptly sealed it into a tight line. He looked away again.

"How could you possibly...?" he began, and seeing that Link offered only raised eyebrows, he repeated in a soft voice, "how could you possibly know that?"

"From your eyes." He studied Tallyn's eyes for a long moment. "Dead giveaway."

"Impa must have said something."

"You know that she would never." He paused before adding, "They're very, very distinct."

Tallyn shifted uncomfortably.

"You've never been told so?"

"Of course I have," he snipped. He glanced over at Link curiously, his cheeks burning self-consciously. "How is it that you've looked so many Sheikahs in the eyes, when this village can't even remember..." he trailed off.

"Just one," said Link, looking out at the lake. "What can't they remember?"

Tallyn shook his head again. "It's not a story for such a nice day." He tried to put it out of his mind, all the while wondering about the one Sheikah who had stolen Link's gaze.

"I've heard something of it," said Link. He reached into his bag and withdrew a flask. He uncorked it, took a sip, and offered it to Tallyn. "Please, Tal, it could help my research—I don't want to overlook any history, especially recent. Won't you tell me what happened?"

He accepted the flask from his Link, and noticed something faint on the back of his left hand- a tattoo, a birthmark, a scar? He swallowed the burning liquid in the early afternoon sun, feeling quite vulnerable and chilled about what he was about to say.

"I can only tell you what I have come to know, and I doubt you will be able to find a corroborating story, since it is one that we have been asked to forget.

"You've heard that the Sheikahs used to send their bravest warriors to the royal family to serve as life-long bodyguards. Eighteen years ago, the warrior who swore her life to the Queen killed her in cold blood. It was this single act of betrayal that caused the king, in his terrible rage, to declare war on all of Hyrule's Sheikahs.

"They fought, but were badly outnumbered and soon forced to surrender. The survivors were rounded up and put on trial. They say that a few managed to escape, but most were sent to the Shadow Temple, their own sacred temple, where they were tortured and killed horribly." Tallyn shifted his position again and fixed his gaze on the small island in the lake.

"It was these events that caused the lower village, which is now Kakariko, to take up arms against the king, since they were friends of the Sheikahs. Tensions increased among the neighboring races, as the Zoras sided with the royal army, and the Gorons remained stubbornly uninvolved. The civil war lasted two years, after which territories were re-drawn, and an uneasy peace was established_._"

Link sat quietly for a moment, his expression conflicted. "Why was Impa spared?"

"Because she was a hero. It was Impa who avenged the Queen's death by killing the mad warrior," Tallyn looked up at Link.

Link's eyes widened. "And what about you?"

"Me? Oh..." Tallyn sipped again. "My parents must have seen what was coming, and they found an older, childless couple to take me in."

"Did you ever know?"

Tallyn shook his head. "No. I really thought I was a mixed-blood Hylian up until my foster father's death. He left me a letter explaining everything." A small smile graced his features, and he looked up at Link. "You must think me a fool, for not recognizing myself until then."

Link smiled. "If it's any consolation, I thought I was a Kokiri until I was eleven."

Tallyn laughed. "How did you come to live in the forest anyway?"

"I'm told my mother fled with me during the war- I'm not sure from where- and she found her way into the Kokiri forest. She died, but the Great Deku Tree protected me, and I was raised by the children."

"You can't be serious," said Tallyn.

Link shrugged.

"You mean it's actually true that you came from the forest?"

"I can take you sometime, if you'd like."

"You'll take me?" laughed Tallyn. When he saw that Link looked serious, he added, "Look, you must understand that it's very hard to believe. Hardly anyone has ventured into the deep woods and lived, and no one has ever reported seeing any children."

"That's because they got lost," said Link.

"Hm."

Link took a long draw from the flask. "I didn't expect you to believe me."

Tallyn threw a stone into the water. "I don't _not_ believe you."

Link threw a stone in after his, only farther. "Oh?"

They were silent for a moment, while the sounds of the wind, insects, gulping frogs, and distant chatter filled the space with a quiet hum.

"How did you know that Ganondorf was going to attack the king?" asked Tallyn abruptly.

Link's eyes brightened. "Have you read much on the topic of memory and time?"

"No," said Tallyn, eyeing him strangely. He noticed Link move his right hand on top of his left.


	5. Chapter 5

TALLYN

* * *

At least eight books on time and three on memory lay strewn across the long table in the research wing, marked with tabs of paper, splayed open, stacked on top of one another. At the other end of the table was Link, transcribing passages from curious books that approached time as a linear thing, time as cyclical, time as multi-dimensional.

Link's theory about time fascinated Tallyn, but it relied on several unlikely assumptions with which he struggled. The first was believing in the gods and the legend of the Triforce. Then, there was the acceptance that certain unearthly powers were sleeping within artifacts hidden across the land.

If the legends were true, there must be all sorts of anachronistic keys—debris from other times residing in this world—in objects, in the temples, and in bloodlines.

He watched Link delve deeply into the Hero of Time legends, counting four unique appearances of the Hero in history: two who traveled through time, one who traveled to another dimension, and one who was of his own time. Link mused that parallel timelines created by these historic disruptions could account for coincidences, déjà vu, ghosts, and dreams, as parallel realities overlapped and nestled invisibly within the valleys of the present.

"What's this have to do with the gods?" asked Tallyn impatiently.

"Everything," cried Link, "Everything, everything. They've left us Time, but also the power to wield it. And look what we've done."

Tallyn looked around. "What? What have we done?"

A frustrated look crossed Link's face, which softened, and then turned into a smile. "What indeed," he said, grinning at something secret.

* * *

Tallyn continued to observe and assist with Link's unusual research whenever he could, and soon found himself drawn into the mysteries of time as well. He quickly deduced that Link was probing a theory connecting something he had found in the present to past or parallel events from the legends- his clues were memory, feeling, and objects. But what exactly was he trying to find, and why was the royal family interested?

As he sat at his bench sewing signatures together, a folded glider floated in through the garden window and landed on the desk beside him. He put down the needle and unfolded the note. It read: 

"_Brought too much lunch - am sitting in garden._

- L." 

Tallyn smiled and felt his stomach flip. He tidied his workspace and removed his apron before walking through the back door to the garden, where he found Link sitting on a blanket with an impressive spread of fresh fruit, cheese, cured meat, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine. An open book rested in his lap, and he distractedly read a letter as he opened the wine. The cork released as Tallyn approached.

He held up the glider. "What's the occasion?"

Link shrugged and passed him the bottle. "You work too hard," he said. Tallyn took a polite sip while Link watched with a smile, happy to have an accomplice.

"So this is for me?"

"No, that's just an observation. Have something to eat," offered Link, slicing more bread with a short, fierce-looking knife.

Tallyn tried everything and praised Link on his selections. Link continued to glance at the letter as he grazed.

"Tal, does this library have any Sheikah texts about Time?"

"Just a book of folklore." He eyed Link guardedly. "But the castle might have something."

"Do you think they would send a book to Kakariko?"

"I can certainly look into it." Tallyn paused. "Are you trying to avoid going there?"

Link squirmed. "A little. There are a few more things I need to do before I talk to her again."

"You mean Princess Zelda?"

"Mm."

Tallyn shifted his position. "What's she like?"

"I don't know. Regal. Beautiful." Link shrugged.

"I mean, what's she _really_ like?"

Link smirked. "I'll be doing treason if I tell you what she's really like."

"Tell me anyway."

Link looked skeptical. "Well," he began, "I knew her best when she was a child. She was very playful and mischievous; always getting into trouble. She used to disguise herself as a boy or servant and sneak out of the castle, and sometimes we would meet and play behind the castle meadows or in the market."

He paused to collect his thoughts. "She is astoundingly wise, and has the ability to see through time; it's also true what they say, that she dreams of the past, present, and future." He shrugged. "She will be a great ruler."

"How did you meet?"

Link's face became conflicted, and he chose his words carefully. "I left the forest with a… a gift of sorts for her. We met, became friends, and one of our games was spying on the sinister-looking Gerudo man from the far west."

"And that's how…?" asked Tallyn.

"Yes," replied Link cautiously. He popped two grapes in his mouth before continuing. "You see… it truly was a joint effort, in acting on what we learned. It was because of her wisdom…" he shook his head. "It's a mistake to call me a hero."

Tallyn raked his eyes over Link and noted his slow, controlled breath, knotted eyebrows, and agitated fist that clenched and pulled on a patch of grass. He longed to reach out and touch him.

"I imagine it took a great measure of courage," said Tallyn with a smile.

Link raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Do you love her?" asked Tallyn, feeling suddenly emboldened.

"Do I... what?"

"The way you speak of her... I'm just curious."

Link, slightly red, took a moment to find his words. "It's… no. I didn't mean to give that impression at all."

Tallyn was embarrassed and regretted asking, but secretly felt very glad. Glad? He spent a moment considering why he was glad, and concluded that because Link was single, they could potentially court women together, or better yet, just remain bachelors, and continue to drink and swim and research as they pleased. His thoughts filled him with a temporary relief, as they wandered carefully, circuitously around the truth: that he hopelessly adored Link, and wanted him all for himself.

He passed the tense moment by having another sip of wine and handing the bottle to Link.

"I didn't think to bring a glass," said Link absently.

He noticed that Link seemed out of sorts; lost in thought one moment and jumpy the next. His questions had also awakened his penetrating gaze, which followed him now, dark blue, dreamy, sad.

"Thank you for lunch," Tallyn said to the gaze.

"Any time." Link roughly pushed his hair out of his face. "I'm going to the desert tomorrow."

"Research again?"

Link smiled. "You could say that."

"Incredible. Won't you need a guide?"

Link paused and gave him a significant look. "You could come, if you wish."

Tallyn shook his head, and felt a raindrop on the tip of his nose. "You're truly mysterious, Link. Let's go inside, it's going to pour."

"It'll pass," said Link with skyward eyes. The rain immediately began to pick up. Tallyn corked the bottle while Link gathered the blanket and food back into his pack. They ran to the library's door and stumbled in, soaked.

Catching his breath, Tallyn dutifully asked, "How's the book?"

Link fished for it in his bag and pulled it out. "A little wet," he said with guilty eyes. Tallyn took the book from his hands, and this time caught a long glimpse of the mark on the back of Link's left hand. Alarmed, he moved quickly away to the bindery table and began interleaving thin, porous paper between the wettest pages in the book. He didn't hear Link behind him.

"You're just getting it wetter," he said, quietly touching a hand to his shoulder. "You should dry off, you're soaked."

Tallyn closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the warm touch before turning to look at Link, with his wet hair dripping down his face. His eyes fell to the wet shirt plastered to his chest and shoulders. "I'll get you a towel," he said, unable to tear his eyes away.

"No, it's ok. I'm leaving now, I'm already wet, it's ok." Link's eyes also rested heavily on Tallyn. "I'll see you sometime next week," he said, leaving with his wet pack.

The door closed and Tallyn was left alone, deep in thought.

* * *

Something about seeing Link wet from the rain aroused more of the dreams and false memories to which Tallyn was becoming accustomed, the ones where he and Link acted out the legends as the hero and the guide. There was Link, always in green, quiet, naïve, brave, while Tallyn, in Sheikah warrior dress, directed Link through hidden passageways to the temples, speaking to him only in metaphors. They played music; he watched over him; he had heard the dream Link call him by his birth name more than once.

The legend-dreams melded with mundane recollections from the day, combining with his intimate longings for the mysterious researcher that he kept locked away deep in his mind, and with the memories or desires (he could not tell which) that belonged to the Sheikah guide. It was with this vague, constant memory spool that he became quite obsessed.

He became so immersed in thoughts of Link that he found himself aching for him all that week while out at the bar with friends, while sitting on the lake shore, and while lying between the sheets of his bed.

* * *

During the week, Tallyn kept busy binding and repairing the endless new and damaged books, humidifying crumpled maps, sending for more supplies of parchment and leather, and reading a book on Hylian iconography. He was intrigued by the presence of a Triforce symbol on Link's hand, and wondered whether it could have appeared naturally as a birthmark, or if he had had it inscribed. His search ultimately led him back to the legends where chosen Triforce bearers of antiquity were listed. They were frequently princes and kings, but occasionally travelers, children, or knights bore the mark as well. He followed the trail through three books on Link's shelf, until he found one strange legend that he had never before encountered, regarding the shattering of the Triforce.

The legend related that if a heart in balance were to pass through the Sacred Realm and touch the Triforce, his good and noble wish would be granted. If an unbalanced heart were to touch the Triforce, it would shatter into three pieces: power, wisdom, and courage, and the pieces would embed themselves in three worthy hosts.

He turned the page. Could Link the researcher, traveler, really have something to do with a mythical source of other-worldly power, the sacred object sought by kings, madmen, and fools? As he sat at Link's desk, deep down an alley of thought, he was interrupted by the hovering of a nearby figure.

"Are you helping with his research?"

He turned to Ilsia and considered her question. "I didn't intend to. But, I suppose I am."

She handed him an envelope and sidled up close as he opened it. A pile of sand spilled out of the letter as he unfolded it and read the hasty script:

_"Will be away longer than anticipated. No hurry on that book._

_-L."_

Ilsia groaned. "I want him to come back."

Tallyn looked at her as if she had read his thoughts, and then smiled. "Do you have a crush, Ilsia?"

She pawed at her red stone on its long, cheap chain. "I just miss him. He's very nice."

"Hm."

"You don't think so?"

Tallyn shrugged. "Sure, he's nice."

She nodded. "I can't imagine you would spend so much time with someone who wasn't nice. Why did he write you?"

"To let me know I could take my time requesting this book for him." He held up a thick, purplish book on Link's desk.

"I think it's because he has a crush on _you_."

Tallyn's eyes widened, shocked at her assertion. "No, it doesn't work that way. Boys can't like other boys."

"I bet sometimes it happens."

He turned to her, amused and terrified. "What have you been reading lately?"

Ilsia stuck her tongue out at Tallyn and stalked out of the room and down the stairs. 

* * *

It was not until the following week that Link returned. Tallyn was re-shelving a new edition of books on the first floor when Link found him.

"Hello Tal," he said.

He tried not to act too surprised or glad to see him, but could not help from smiling. "Hi."

He laid down the remaining books on the shelf and looked his friend over. Link had acquired a healthy bronze color to his skin, and his hair was lightened with boyish blond highlights. He was more beautiful than ever.

Link dug into his pocket and pulled out something small. He regarded the object for a moment before placing it in Tallyn's hand.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's for you," said Link.

A little round mirror wrapped in an old strip of linen tumbled out onto the palm of his hand. He examined the mirror and found only his silvery reflection on the observe side, and no indication of tool or casting marks on the reverse. Then he looked back at the scrap of linen still remaining in his hand, and looked and looked at it until he felt sure it would burst into flames.

"But what is it?" he repeated, glancing back at the mirror.

"An alloyed mirror made by the Gerudos. Have you ever heard of the crescent mirror shield?"

Tallyn felt uneasy. He called to mind a great mirrored shield adorned with a crescent moon and red metal inlays, though he could not recall from where. "No. Tell me about it."

Link was watching him closely. "There's a legend about a mirror shield so powerful that it can reflect magic spells. It was made by Gerudo alchemists out of a secret alloy. They say it's unbreakable."

Tallyn's attention was now focused exclusively on the fragment of linen. It continued burning his hand in a non-tactile way, until it began to feel a part of him, as if it were familiar, and something he was accustomed to touching, adjusting.

And so he was fidgeting and adjusting his linen wrappings that bound his wrists and hands, keeping the sand out and holding his plate armor in place. As his aching fingers plucked the strings of the lyre, his eyes pored over the hero that stood before him and found a certain determination set in his features, sadness and fire in his eyes, his naiveté and innocence now long lost. And he felt pleased for teaching him, so very pleased to see him there, a true hero, no longer a boy, lovely—striking, really—and then he spoke, said his name.

"Sheik."

Link said it as if it were his own, something that belonged to him. Sheik looked away when he addressed him because he found it unbearable. He heard himself respond mechanically and felt himself take a step backward. Link bade him to wait, and stepped closer. Too close, thought Sheik. He could smell the scent of clean water and aloe for his burns and hot sand and sweat. The hero asked him for a token.

A token? Did he take him for a girl? If not, why was he asking him, instead of flattering an eligible maiden? He was confused and bristled by the request.

"I just mean, there's no one else," Link said, raising his voice, "There's no one else in the whole world who knows what I am setting out to do. Just you."

Sheik took a mental inventory as his heart melted inside his chest. Weapons, provisions, pen and parchment, map, clothes… he needed to be quick. He unwrapped a length of linen from his left wrist and cut it, looking up at Link with some embarrassment. He stepped even closer to Link, for the first and last time, and deposited the fabric into his hand in a sad heap. So close, but he could never be closer. There was no time left to let his eyes dissolve into Link's, and it was all that he could do to look him over quickly, thoroughly, and commit him to precious memory; his scent, his green clothes, broad shoulders, brave eyes. He withdrew his hand, but then reconsidered, and placed it on Link's shoulder tremulously.

"Good luck," he said as evenly as he could, "I believe in you."

He was prepared to swear that Link's pathetic gaze mirrored his own, which only made him feel worse. What to say? There was so much to say, but anything more would have been too much. He stepped away, summoned a gust of wind that carried a pillar of sand between them, and then made his escape.

Tallyn blinked his eyes. He felt feverish and overwhelmed, as if he might be sick. Hot, unwanted tears welled up in his eyes.

"Excuse me," he said to Link, and walked swiftly to the bindery, throwing open the door to the garden.

Noticing he was still clutching the mirror and fabric, Tallyn let them drop from his hand disdainfully as he planted himself on the step, placing his head between his knees. Such pain! He could not explain what had just happened, except that it bore resemblance to his legend-dreams, though clearer, a thousand times clearer. Whose pain was he feeling? Surely it was Sheik's, or his own in a sense, but he was only an actor in these visions, standing in for a mythical character who may or may not have ever lived.

He recalled a similar feeling that he had felt weeks ago with Link at the old well, though without nearly as much pain. He had seen a vision of himself and Link as actors again for the guide and hero, where they were both attacked by a spirit that inhabited the well. Link was knocked unconscious, and Tallyn—Sheik, that is—brought him into Impa's house and watched over him until he awoke, dabbing his forehead with a wet cloth, daring to let his fingers wander through his hair, across his smooth cheek.

"Tal," said Link's voice, "are you all right?"

Tallyn blushed shamefully and stood up, struggling to look at Link. "I'm fine," he said.

"You look ill. Maybe you should lie down."

"I said I'm fine."

Link hesitated, and then asked, "Was it the object?"

"Why would it be the object?" Tallyn shot back. "Was it cursed? Why are you bringing me these things, anyway?" His voice was raised, wavering. "It's your crazy theory of time-objects, isn't it? You're testing it out on me, aren't you?"

Link's eyes grew wide. "No—you've got it all wrong. I brought it back for you as a token, because you are my friend."

A token. Tallyn burned with embarrassment, heartache, and rage. "Maybe you should get to know other people."

He looked up in time to see Link's face, shocked and crestfallen. He turned away and heard his footsteps leave the room; a moment later, he heard the front door open and close.

He felt just as Sheik had felt. He let himself wallow in the rest of the dream, where Sheik remained hidden in a place where he could watch Link enter the temple, while he collapsed, grasping his own shoulders, shedding tears uselessly.


	6. Chapter 6

LINK

* * *

He had all of his notes and even a few books with him and was quite content to work in the stillness of Impa's house. But Link was hurt and angry and could not keep still; he stood up often and paced, took a stroll through the loud, anonymous market, and then sat on the back stoop and threw rocks against the cliff.

He was angry at himself, and knew that it was by his own doing that Tallyn had become suspicious and upset with him. But he was also excited by Tallyn's response: he had reacted very strongly to an anachronistic object. Link felt badly for lying to him about part of the gift's purpose, but at the same time, felt that this could potentially prove the existence of time and memory as substantial forms, or at the very least as things that could become trapped in matter.

But to whom did this matter besides himself? Wasn't he forgetting his primary task, to record his memories?

He stood and paced again, thinking hard about trapped time. The longer he considered it, the less meaningful it became, and the more like a law or property it seemed, a commonplace rule. So he could touch a déjà vu—so, it would seem, could anybody. But these particular objects were surviving fragments from a time that Link knew, but that had never happened for the rest of Hyrule. These things and places, he felt, were all that was left of what once defined him, his links to another past. Did he really believe that if he brought them together, they could somehow allow him to step into another time? Or that by waving them under someone's nose like smelling salts, an entire existence could be regained? Could he really believe this, after all he had seen and done?

Regardless, he continued to long for the Other Time, when he was made strong by the gods and imbued with a task, when the wide world was new and wonderful to him. Most of all, he thought as he kicked a rock (for his pacing had taken him outside, beyond the village gates), he longed badly, and in ways that surprised him, for the Sheik that he had lost.

Finding him in this world wasn't enough, he wanted to love and be loved by the only one who knew the terrible thing that the gods chose him to do. It stung him every time they met that Tallyn, who was physically the same person as Sheik, did not know him. He looked into eyes that did not smolder and counsel, but that were filled with different dreams, friendship, interest in worldly things; they shyly blinked away, they glanced, smiled, became stormy; they were eyes of this world and not the Other. Every time he felt himself sigh over Tallyn, he scolded himself for forgetting Sheik. He felt conflicted. He had let himself grow close to him, inwardly insisting that the more they knew each other, the more likely it was that Sheik would remember himself.

For he did not believe that Tallyn could possibly love him as he was in this world—the situation was not right, the world was too peaceful, and Link found his own position in the world loathsome. It was selfish, he knew, but he was determined to somehow make Tallyn remember a time when he was great, when they both were great, for only then was he convinced that he stood a chance.

Another hour, two hours passed. Link found himself deep within the Temple of Time at the pedestal of the sword, his hand clenching and unclenching the hilt. He felt the remaining bit of fabric in his hand; it made him ache. If what was done would become undone by pulling the sword, he promised and swore he would kill Ganondorf a thousand more times if it meant he could see Sheik again. Let the sages' seal burst, let the darkness come back, let the king die, it would all be worth it. And after time repeated yet again, and everything was put right, he would escape Zelda's meddling hand and run away to one of the beautiful places in the world that had no name, and he would bring Sheik with him, for he remembered how he had looked at him; he knew he must have felt something.

The more elaborate his fantasy became, the more his grip loosened, until his hand rested against the sword limply. He felt sick.

"What are you doing?" asked a familiar voice.

Link, alarmed that he had not noticed someone enter, dropped his hand and turned around guiltily.

"Zelda," said Link. "I suppose I am… just revisiting some memories."

"Memories?" she replied. The princess walked up the sword and put her hand around the hilt for a moment, and then let her fingers brush against the ribbons of linen. "Ah," she said, "there they are."

Link looked at her with surprise, and wondered which memories she was accessing—her own, or his?

"By now you must have met Tallyn."

"Yes," said Link, "we've become good friends."

"I see." She looked down for a moment, and then back at Link. "But you are troubled?"

"Yes." Link hesitated. "It's the time objects, the lingering memories."

Zelda bowed her head. "I accept blame for those. I was not strong enough to control Time. Tiny pieces slipped from my hands."

He nodded slowly. "I've found a few objects, and visited three sages in their temples."

"You went into the temples with them?"

"I did."

Zelda began to pace, and did not speak for a long moment. "Link. I am afraid you misunderstood what I meant by the temples retaining pieces of Time. I only meant for you to visit the temples, not the sages."

Link felt a pang of guilt. "Have I disrupted something?"

The princess sighed. "Only their peace. They have well-earned it, but now three of them will have to live with two sets of memories."

"What if they had gone into the temple on their own?"

"They would have known only nostalgia, and perhaps relived some fragments. They might have concluded that they had had visions, or visits from an ancestor."

"Do you think Tallyn could regain his memories like that?" he asked abruptly.

"Is that what this is about?" Zelda looked at him sadly. "I would not wish Tallyn's memories on anyone."

"Why not? What happened to him?"

"Terrible things. I will not speak of them in this sacred place. The Sheik you remember was broken when I met him, and by the time you saw him, he was hardened like steel. I have seen him in this world, and he is happy and unscarred. Please, Link, do not rob him of his peace."

Link was quiet. He felt terrible. "Did he," he began, "do you think that he…"

"That he what?" asked Zelda with some bitterness in her voice, "Cared for you? Yes, Link, he cared for you deeply, was obsessed with your wellbeing; loved you even. But…" she fidgeted with the tips of the gloves on her hands, "You mustn't speak to him about the Other Time, or ever of Sheik. His memories are more painful than you or I could ever understand. If you induce him to remember, you will destroy him."

Link was shocked by her words. "I won't. I promise I won't. I was just," he drew in a breath, "…curious."

She drew near and took his hands in hers. "How are the memoirs coming?"

"Fine," he said uneasily. "Can I walk you home?"

"No. Impa is waiting for me in the passage." She dropped his hands and started off toward the altar. "Be a friend to him, Link. Try not to think of him as a shadow of the Sheik you knew, but rather that Sheik was a shadow of Tallyn. He is more beautiful and himself than he ever was wearing that mask. Please, I implore you, do not taint that beauty by inducing him to remember." Her tone was firm, almost angry, but her eyes were soft and sad.

Her words surprised him, but they soon became very clear. "You loved him?" asked Link.

She looked away. "Goodnight, Link."

* * *

Link poured himself something to calm his anxious mind and picked up the blue marbled book from Zelda. He had flipped through it several times, devoting most of his attention to Zelda's descriptions of Time and the Sacred Realm, but now he turned the first page and started from the beginning.

She had generally written in a terse, practical voice, and she had carefully abbreviated all the names of towns and her companions with a single letter. She wrote tenderly about the wild, heartbroken Sheikah boy that Impa had brought to their camp, describing his other life as a bindery apprentice, his warrior training, and his nightmares and fears. They grew close—hunting together, studying, and confiding their secrets in one another. They came to love and trust each other; she confessed to her journal that they had even kissed once when Impa was away. But he had never fully healed, despite her gentle care, and continued to suffer from violent dreams, and periods where he could not speak, and would not eat. Time passed. Zelda observed his fragile, depressed figure gradually grow tall and strong and stoic under Impa's guidance. Zelda taught him to play the lyre and told him everything she knew about Time and the Hero.

Then, at last, the Hero returned, and Sheik had to leave. Though he visited whenever he could, something about him had changed. He paced manically and spoke only of Link (he blushed at reading this), and was always anxious to leave again. Zelda was especially sparse with details regarding her meetings with Sheik after that, indicating only the temple in which the hero was fighting, or the time when she had to take up a new disguise when Impa left her.

Link felt sad and guilty as he read the princess's notes; he had never thought much about how she had passed the seven long years in exile. He was excited to recognize shades of Tallyn in her description, but it hurt him to read how much he had suffered, and from what, he still did not know. He was distraught to think that he had somehow forced a painful memory back upon him, and sat sipping, wondering what he could possibly do to put things right.

He spent days reexamining the work he had done, including the state of his relationship with Tallyn. In spite of the princess's words and warnings, he felt himself longing for him more than ever. He ceased to consider Tallyn and Sheik as two separate people and let his memories of both blur together.

There was a knock at the door.

Link stood up quickly, making himself dizzy, and buttoned his shirt and tidied his hair before answering. He pulled open the door and, like out of a dream, Tallyn stood before him with resolute eyes, but fidgeting, seeming to have forgotten his words.

Tallyn drew in a breath and said quickly, "Link, I'm sorry." His cheeks reddened, and he was about to say more when Link interrupted.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I gave you that thing. You have nothing to apologize for." He opened the door for him to enter.

Tallyn stepped inside and scanned the room with interest. "I was very mean to you."

"It wasn't your fault. I was messing with things I shouldn't have been. I don't blame you at all." His eyes had badly missed him; they traced over his long legs, loose shirt, delicate collarbone.

"Hm. But you've been avoiding me." He looked up at Link coyly. "I offended you, didn't I?"

The directness of his words and shy gaze caused Link to blush. He did not answer, but only gave a shrug and looked away.

"I've… I've, um," began Tallyn. He took a step closer to Link. "Never had such a close friend before. I don't always know how to be." He touched Link's hand, and then clasped it in his own. "Will you forgive me?"

Link felt his breath leave him, and did not immediately respond. "Yes, of course. I will always forgive you."

They looked at each other for a moment, and Link felt himself grow hot from the prolonged contact.

"Thanks," said Tallyn, letting go of his hand. "As a gesture of peace and my good will, may I buy you a pint? Some friends will be meeting up at the bar in a little too, if you'd like to make a night of it."

Link smiled, feeling intoxicated already. "Yes, ok. That sounds nice."

* * *

Link took in the pub's atmosphere desperately, focusing his attention on people, then decoration, then windows, anything to keep himself from melting or burning up in front of Tallyn. Ale arrived at last, and they clinked glasses.

"What have you been up to lately?" asked Tallyn.

Link shook his head. "Same as always."

"Did you have a… productive time in the desert?"

"Yes, I guess so. Though it might have been more trouble than it was worth."

Link mentally recalled his recent journey to the Spirit Temple. He had found Nabooru holding court inside, and had accepted her challenge to duel. In the middle of fighting, she had laid down her swords and remembered everything. Link had stolen her peace and was leagues wide of accomplishing anything that could forward his book.

"Will you be able to share your work with me when you're finished?" asked Tallyn.

"I—maybe. I don't know. What have you been doing?"

"Nothing new, still binding the new geographical volumes that arrived. I suppose I've also been doing a little research of my own, here and there." He searched Link's face.

"What on?"

"Hylian iconography."

Link nodded absently. "Eagles and lions and things?"

"And the Triforce."

"Yes, of course," said Link.

"I was wondering, Link," began Tallyn, "how you came to have the symbol on your left hand?"

Link drank deeply and did not look up at him. He put down his tankard and hailed the barmaid for another. At last, he said, "What symbol?"

"The one you keep covered," said Tallyn.

"What time are your friends arriving?" asked Link.

"In half an hour or so. Don't avoid the question. How come you have it? Can I see it?"

Link gave him a pained look and hesitated a moment before rolling up the cuff of his left sleeve. The mark was a group of triangles arranged in a pyramid, slightly darker than the rest of his hand, as if bronzed by the sun, save a paler triangle in the center that delineated them into three. Tallyn held out his hand and Link obliged him, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Don't draw so much attention," he hissed.

Tallyn touched the mark, studying it closely. "It doesn't look like a tattoo. It looks as if you wore a stencil on your hand on a sunny day."

"If I am here longer than the summer, you will see that it doesn't fade," replied Link.

Tallyn blinked and waited for him to continue.

Link sighed. "I know you won't believe me. Are you familiar with the legend of the shattered Triforce?"

"I am," he said skeptically, "but do you mean to tell me that the Triforce, if it exists, was shattered at some point in our lifetime?"

"You could say that."

Tallyn threw his hands up. "When? And why doesn't anyone know about it?"

Link scratched his chin. "Seven years ago, but in a Time parallel to ours."

Tallyn looked at him dumbly and ordered another beer. Link minded his own, and offered nothing more for the moment.

"Seven years," said Tallyn, "it always seems to be seven years with you. You are like the cicada."

"Am I? Now I _am_ actually offended."

"So, seven years ago?" asked Tallyn, "Wasn't that when you stopped Ganondorf's coup?"

"Was it? Must have been a coincidence," said Link, his eyes playful.

Tallyn opened his mouth. "So, then, Ganondorf had something to do with the shattering of the Triforce."

"Yes, but in a different plane of Time."

"He shattered the Triforce in a different Time, so you killed him in this Time?"

"Basically."

"Then what about Ganondorf in the other Time, where he committed the act?"

"He was killed there too, of course," said Link carefully. "You don't actually believe any of this, do you?"

"I can't say I do, but, then again… it actually wouldn't be too hard to believe. I met him once, you know."

"You met Ganondorf?!" asked Link, incredulous.

"Yes—he was a terrible, monstrous man, taller than anyone I've ever seen, with skin so scorched from the sun that he looked green," he began. "He was covered in paint and markings and wore strange, sinister leather and plate that moved loudly and left a sour smell in the air. I was maybe fourteen at the time, and was angry that my father lent him those books."

Two low glasses arrived at the table. "Compliments of the one of the guests. He's bought a round for the entire bar," explained the waitress. She filled the glasses with a whisky spirit.

"Better leave the bottle," said Link. He turned back to Tallyn. "We'll need it to toast with your friends anyway, right? What happened after you met him?"

"He pored over those books the same way that you are. He had us bring a desk to a secluded corner of the upper north wing and he would read them day and night. I used to hate to bring him new books, for he had such a detestable, evil presence. He left us after a few weeks, and shortly after, we heard about what he had tried to do."

Link tried to imagine a young Sheik providing books to Ganondorf at the same exact moment when he was reestablishing his young life in this world.

"So this is why you're interested in parallel times and those objects. You are trying to find out what happened in that Other Time," said Tallyn. "And it's not just you, but the royal family wants to know who killed Ganondorf in that Time, and they seem to believe it was an iteration of the Hero of Time. Do I have that right?"

Link nervously traced the incised glass on his tumbler before drinking down the contents. He refilled it. He was beginning to worry that Tallyn was piecing together too many things, and was in either danger of remembering, or believing that Link was actually crazy.

"Tallyn," said Link, his voice animated, "I will cede that you are extremely perceptive and intelligent. As a gesture of peace and your good will, would you please ask me no more questions on this matter?"

Tallyn squinted his eyes and drained his glass. "And you are mysterious and absurd. I can't even begin to understand you. But it sounds like I have your story just right."

"Your friends are late," Link replied, pouring Tallyn another. He looked up and found Tallyn gazing at him, looking him over with unconcealed curiosity, he cheeks beginning to color from the drinks.

"Yes, that's true," said Tallyn, glancing at his timepiece. "Perhaps they went to the wrong pub."

"Perhaps _they_ did? I'm beginning to think you deliberately lured me here so that you could interrogate me."

"Oh, I would never. But that reminds me, I do have one more question for you."

"No," said Link, "not until you've finished your drink and we've thoroughly discussed the weather and the price of grain."

Tallyn laughed and satisfied Link with descriptions of materials he recently ordered for the studio, gossip from friends, and how the days were beginning to grow shorter. Link listened adoringly, every so often catching gestures and expressions he remembered from Sheik. The way that Tallyn looked at him made him blush, it aroused him, it was too obvious. He cast the look back at him, teasing and laughing with him. He realized they were flirting.

Tallyn asked Link to tell him a story from one of his travels, and he told him about how he came to Olous by route of Ys. He described the vast, cold, salt sea and the perils he was leaving behind with the war for what he thought could be a life of meditation and healing arts. He was beginning to feel quite drunk.

"Did you leave behind anyone you loved?" asked Tallyn.

"Not really," said Link.

Tallyn tilted his head. "That's surprising to hear. You didn't have a girlfriend you left?"

"No."

"Have you never been with a woman, Link?"

Link winced. "Just once."

"Just once?" repeated Tallyn.

"It was a mistake. I don't even know who she was, or how it happened really."

Tallyn's eyes were wide. "How strange. Why don't you remember who she was? Was it that bad?" he asked.

Link looked up at him. "No, it wasn't bad," he said defensively. "What does it matter anyway? Why is that unusual?"

Tallyn shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing, it's just that… we have such a different culture here, when a boy comes of age, he's always brought to... you know, a brothel. And after that, well…"

"What?" Link put down his drink. "Do they really-? Tallyn, have you…? Don't tell me that you-"

He shrugged again.

"More than once?"

Tallyn blushed and looked annoyed. "For gods' sake, Link."

"Why did you go?"

"Because it's what you do. It's an education."

"That doesn't make it right."

Link was burning with rage at the thought of his lovely, bookish Tallyn-Sheik between the legs of an unsavory woman. He fumed quietly for a few minutes and did not speak or look at him.

"Oh, come off it, Link. Can I finally ask you what I wanted to earlier?"

Link cursed his lucidity, but agreed with a silent nod.

"Why did you receive a piece of the Triforce?"

Link drank deeply, his mind swimming. "There's no real answer. Why not me? It could have been anybody."

Tallyn swirled the contents of his glass. "Which piece is it?"

"I'm sure you can figure it out. In fact, I'm sure you can work out everything if you think it through- even if that's the last thing I want." He passed his hand through his hair, agitated. "You know what piece it is."

Tallyn was shocked and looked at Link with clouded eyes. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

Link breathed in. "Because you're brilliant. I told you already—you're really, really smart."

Tallyn blushed and blinked self-consciously, at a loss for words again. "You are, Link… really, so many things."

The bottle was empty. They looked at each other, two hot, disoriented entities, and realized just how late it was. Link stumbled as he stood, breaking the tension and causing them both to laugh. They paid their bill and wandered out into the humid night. After what must have been a block, Tallyn guided Link down a narrow alleyway, to his shock and delight. He motioned him to stop and continued a few paces ahead, where he stood for a long moment with his back to him, leaning against the wall, letting his head drop lazily to his shoulder. He fastened his pants and approached, looking at Link with boyish shame.

"I'll wait if you have to."

Link soon stumbled back to Tallyn and they headed back toward the south end of town. Since he continued to drift as they walked, Tallyn seized him by the arm and held him up against his body so that he would not keep seeking the stability of the walls. He made a joke about it but inside was swooning, and he hoped he would never let go.

After a few minutes, they reached a fork in the path that led east toward the library. Tallyn didn't even look up.

"Shouldn't you be…?" began Link.

"Hush. I'm taking you home," said Tallyn.

"I'm fine," slurred Link.

"Mm."

It wasn't much farther to Impa's house. Tallyn waited patiently as Link fumbled with the key, and at last he opened the door.

"Could I trouble you for some water?" Tallyn asked as Link collapsed onto the wood bench.

"You may," answered Link, closing his eyes.

Tallyn sat down beside him with two glasses filled with water and presented one to Link.

"Drink. You don't look good."

"But I _am_ good," insisted Link.

"Oh, are you? Where did you learn how to drink, in Ys?" teased Tallyn.

Link laughed (as the people of Ys do not drink at all). "You, my dear," said Link, sprawling out so as to invade Tallyn's space, "You are a terrible influence. Just look what you've done to me."

"What I've done?" said Tallyn, laughing with him, "You, my dear, did this to yourself."

Link leaned against him heavily and let his hand carelessly fall to Tallyn's leg. He closed his eyes, breathed in his warm scent, dreamed of him...

"You can sleep once you drink this." Tallyn gave him a shove and thrust the glass into his hand.

Link drank down the minerally water and rested his head back on Tallyn's shoulder. "Tal, Tallyn, you darling, patient friend," prattled Link.

"Upstairs," said Tallyn, pulling him to his feet and leading him across the room to the stairs. Link continued to apologize sweetly and praise Tallyn all the way to the top. He felt feverish and his heart was racing. Tallyn led him to the bed and instructed him to get in, but Link only stood, wobbling a little, gazing at him through the dark while he kicked off his shoes. Tallyn gave him a little shove, only to be pulled down with him onto the bed.

"Link," he scolded, and promptly stood again and busied himself with opening the bedroom windows and kicking a chamberpot over to the bedside.

"In case you need to puke," he explained. He sat back down on the bed next to him and rubbed his arm affectionately. "Do you think you're ok from here?" he asked.

Link looked up at Tallyn from his sleepy daze. "I think we should have a drink."

"I think you need to go to sleep." He brushed the loose, disheveled bangs away from Link's face, emboldened by his own intoxication. "I'll see you tomorrow. There's water here if you need it."

"Won't you stay?" asked Link. He saw that he caused him to blush and look away, but lacked the tact to clarify just then.

"Can't," said Tallyn tersely.

"Please?"

Tallyn sighed. "I'll stay until you fall asleep. How's that?"

"Fine. But I'll never fall asleep," said Link.

"Don't be a child." He pulled the covers up over him and turned the lamp down low.

Link moved his hand so that it brushed against Tallyn's, and then, feeling braver, he took hold of his hand. Tallyn was quiet, though he squeezed back without looking at Link.

"What are you doing?" he asked after a moment.

"Being childish," said Link sleepily.

Tallyn paused again. "How odd. I've just had the strangest déjà vu."

Link opened his eyes. "Oh?"

"Yes," said Tallyn, "That I'd taken care of you before; in this house too. Only we… it was… very different."

Link smiled, remembering with him. "You should write down all your dreams and déjà vus."

"Why?"

Link rolled onto his side. "Because they're fascinating… and probably true."

Tallyn let go of his hand. "The Triforce of Courage," he said dubiously.

Link said nothing, but turned away and heard him whisper goodnight some minutes later and then tiptoe down the stairs and close the front door. He was overwhelmed with happiness, with Tallyn's beauty and the Triforce and burning whisky and the memory of his obliging touch.


	7. Chapter 7

LINK

* * *

Late the next morning, Link dragged himself out of bed and to the library, feeling sick and terrible, but desperate to see Tallyn again and thank him for his care. Since he did not see him (as he was crumpled in a heap on his workbench), Link continued directly to his own reading space and made an effort to open one of the old books and reacquaint himself with the legend.

He awoke some time later, unaware that he had fallen asleep, and found a tall glass of water with a little orange slice placed before him on the desk. He drank and closed his eyes, excited, slightly panicked. His heart was racing.

Link sought Tallyn in the bindery and thanked him shyly for taking such good care of him.

"Oh," replied Tallyn, "It's nothing. Nothing at all." He picked up an orange from a willow basket on his desk and stood. "You were in a sorry state. Come on, let's go for a quick walk. The fresh air will do us both good."

Link, choked for words, followed obediently. Tallyn threw open the back door and they wandered out into the warm garden and began to stroll through the rows of flowers. He looked all around at the grasses, different flower species, shrubs, sky, shed, and bench; he tossed the orange in his hand agitatedly and rubbed the back of his neck, but did not look at Link for some time.

"I don't know about this fresh air," remarked Link.

Tallyn stopped, and began to peel the orange. "This should help."

Link watched his long, skillful fingers strip the orange down to its glossy red flesh and white pith. He let the entire peel drop into one of the raised beds as he gently urged the fruit in half. He held a half out to Link with a small smile.

Link met his eyes and wordlessly accepted the orange. He had begun to feel embarrassed about all the unlikely events he had disclosed to him the night before, in addition to feeling attracted, mesmerized, and led on by him. It felt dangerous. He could not look at him without recalling all the times he had touched his hand or been teased by him. He broke the orange into sections and bit into one, sucking the juice as it dripped, devouring the small fruit while Tallyn continued to fidget, peeling away the membrane of his. He soon gave up and popped the entire flayed segment into his mouth, and they continued walking.

"Well, so… I can't stop thinking about it. About the Triforce, and Ganondorf, and everything," said Tallyn. "How do you know all this?"

"Please, Tal."

"You can't tell me that?"

Link shook his head.

"But I'm nobody," urged Tallyn, "I can't see how anyone could mind me knowing. I don't factor in to this at all."

Link stopped and faced him. "Is that what you think?"

Tallyn turned and saw how serious Link had become, and blushed, unsure how to respond. He offered a tiny shrug.

Link turned away again and massaged his forehead. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Because I want to believe you," said Tallyn. "It seemed like… like you wanted me to piece it together, at first. And some things were beginning to make a lot of sense. But something's changed. Now you want me to forget all you've told me." He approached him and rested a hand on his forearm for a moment. "That makes me more curious."

Link grew hot at being touched, but still felt conflicted and filled with regret. He bit into another orange segment and looked back at Tallyn. He tried his best to read what was in his face. His eyes were imploring and frustrated, his bow lips were slightly parted, his posture conveyed determination, but at the same time, was slightly withdrawing, as if protecting his own secrets. How many memories had he reencountered? How much did he really know and believe?

"You can read it," Link heard himself say.

"Do you promise?" asked Tallyn.

"I promise. But not until it is finished."

As they walked wordlessly back to the library, Link began to wonder about all the things in his account that might cause Tallyn to remember the time when he was called Sheik, when he had suffered. The more he thought about it, the more he felt confident in his decision; that it could never really impart memories, since it had never existed in the Other Time. The most harm it could do would be to confuse Tallyn, and to convince him that Link was insane. Once that happened, he knew it would be time to leave.

* * *

The week carried on, and Link slowly began to put words down into the book, striking out careless phrases and pausing to make drawings of tools and weapons from his memory. He made lists of all the things he could remember, and put them in order as best as he could, though they didn't always make sense. He compiled corroborating explanations from Zelda, Sheikah legends, the composer brothers, and his books on multi-dimensional time, and jotted down notes on loose leaves that stuck out obliquely and marked his progress.

Tallyn did not ask him any more questions, but often came and sat near him while he worked, sharpening a tool or slicing open folded bound pages in freshly printed books. Link adored his company, and fell into the habit of making tea for the two of them in the bindery.

Link sat down beside Tallyn on the marble step outside the bindery and blew on his tea. They sat quietly in contained positions, sipping and taking in the warm, herbal air.

"I had a strange dream last night," said Tallyn. "I dreamed of Princess Zelda… we were camping together in a cave."

Link tried not to show too much surprise. "How odd."

"You were in it too. I ran for hours and hours, and I finally found you, in the…" he stopped.

"Where?"

"In the… hm. Can't remember," said Tallyn quickly. "Nevermind."

"In the Temple of Time?" asked Link.

Tallyn looked at him with surprise, and then looked away. "How long until you finish that book?"

Link stretched and overtook Tallyn's space, resting his leg against his with a thud. "Are you anxious to get rid of me?"

"No," he said softly. "You won't be staying?"

"What could I possibly do here?"

"Continue with one of your apprenticeships. Or marry the princess or something, I don't know. You could do anything." He shoved his leg away and looked at him with eyes that betrayed his agitation.

Anything, Link thought, peering at the sliver of bare skin visible in the billowy space between Tallyn's shirt buttons, at his sinuous shoulders supporting his tanned arms. Anything at all, if only Tallyn knew what he would give to either have him entirely to himself or to forget him, the Other Time; everything altogether. He lingered over his long legs, rumpled pants and button fly and mused on how very strange and bewildering it was to love another boy. He was filled with doubt. For the first time, he began to wonder if Zelda was right, and if things might be more precarious and dangerous than they seemed.

But then, tossing his tea leaves into the bush and leaning heavily on Link to stand up, Tallyn caused him to reconsider yet again. It was that thoughtless touch that sent his heart palpitating and filled him with hope. Link stood up quickly and faced him.

"I enjoyed the time I spent working for a smith."

Tallyn raised his eyebrows. "I could help you figure something out, then, when the time comes."

The wind had blown his collar the wrong way. Link reached over and turned it back out, daring to drag his fingers across the soft skin below his collarbone. Tallyn, slightly red, did not turn away, but looked at Link guardedly.

"Thanks." Tallyn looked down. "I have to get back to work. I think I might be staying late tonight."

Link returned upstairs and continued to lay down his memories, stopping occasionally to wander through the stacks. In the rare book room where he had found most of the legends, he encountered Ilsia reclining on a red chaise, flipping lazily through a book atop a towering stack.

"Hi Link," she said without looking up.

"Hi Ilsia."

"Where've you been?" she asked.

"The desert."

"No, no. I saw you when you came back from the desert last week. I meant where've you been since you and Tallyn had a fight?" she continued to read with great interest.

"How did you…?" he began.

She looked back down at her book with raised eyebrows.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a fight," Link added.

"Hm. He was pretty upset with you."

"Did he say so?"

She put down the book. "Of _course_ not. I'm not blind, though. Did you apologize and make it up to him? Must have, or else you wouldn't be here." She smirked, and then became serious upon seeing his blank face. "Wait, you did _nothing?_" she exclaimed. "No gift, or even supper?"

"It's fine, we apologized," said Link impatiently, "and besides, it's none of your business."

"It is my business, as I am concerned about my big brother's wellbeing. Don't you know that when you have a row, both parties must offer something for peace?"

"That sounds very superstitious. Besides, it was a little gift that got me into trouble in the first place."

Ilsia looked at him disapprovingly. "Do what you want." She waved her hand and delved back into her book.

Link turned on his heel and left the rare book room feeling flustered. Impulsively, he headed toward the stairs to seek out Tallyn, but instead ran into him between two rows of shelves.

Tallyn acknowledged him with his eyes.

"Let me cook you supper," said Link, the words tumbling from his lips before he could think.

Tallyn looked taken aback. "What for?" he asked.

"Because I hate cooking for just myself." He noticed Tallyn's eyes begin to wander away. "And to make it up to you, because I really shouldn't have done that thing. You know."

"I dunno, Link. I won't be out of here until late." Tallyn looked down at the damaged book in his arms.

"Come late, then." He followed Tallyn's blinking eyes, watching him decide. "I told you I worked in a kitchen once, right?" he added.

"No," said Tallyn, looking up. "Are you any good?"

"I'm really good."

"Ok."

"Ok what?"

"Ok, I'll come," said Tallyn with a laugh.

"Good," said Link, smiling. "Good. Ok. I'll see you later, then." Link turned on his heel and went back up to his desk, where he gathered his pens and book with nervous hands and shoved them into his bag. The world was big when he emerged outside of the library, big and busy and overwhelming. He managed to procure the ingredients he needed without any trouble and set to work cooking, tidying Impa's house, dreaming of the things he'd say to Tallyn when he arrived.

* * *

It was late indeed, well after dark, and all the ingredients sat simmering on the stove while Link read, biting his lip occasionally and glancing at the clock.

At last, there was a knock at the door. He opened it to find his friend, his guide, leaning against the post looking cool and tired.

"Hi," said Tallyn, his voice crackly.

"Hi," replied Link warmly, savoring the elegant form that stood before him in the doorway. He stepped aside to allow him in.

"Ah, it looks much nicer in here with some light," he remarked.

"Sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment," Link said as he tended to the stew, but then realized that Tallyn was standing close to him by the stove, peering over his shoulder.

"What did you make?" he asked, leaning the slightest bit against Link.

As Link smoldered over the tangential points where Tallyn's elbow, hip, and arm grazed his own, he found that he was able to respond automatically, rattling off the summer vegetables and bit of meat he was able to pull together for supper.

"It smells lovely." He shifted his weight away.

"Thank you. You need some wine."

"Oh, no. After the other night, it's unlikely that I will ever drink again."

"That's what I said too," said Link, gesturing to his glass and pouring one for Tallyn.

He smiled and accepted it.

Link served the summer stew a few moments later, and they passed the time talking about nothing, laughing, and glancing at each other across the yellow candle light. Tallyn ate slowly and politely, but then became serious and put down his spoon.

"You know… this is really very good. I don't think I've ever had anything like it before. How did you do it?"

Link listed every spice and told him about one of the spice vendors in the market who sold things from Olous and how he had come to love the simple, clean flavors while working in the monastery. Tallyn listened with his chin propped up by his hand, blinking slowly.

"Do you think you can stay awake long enough for pie?"

Tallyn opened his eyes. "What kind of question is that?"

"You look exhausted." Link cut the pie and placed a slice on a plate. "Come sit on the settee with me."

Tallyn obeyed, transporting his plate of peach pie with him.

"This is so good," said Tallyn, tipping a bite into his mouth. "You really are so many things, Link. Is there anything you can't do?" he teased.

"You mean besides reading books and making pies? You've exhausted my talents."

"You're a swordsman too."

Link looked up. "What gives you that idea?"

"You've been cut in a fight recently; I can see it sticking out below your collar. You could have been killed—you're either very bad, or you were going easy."

"Which do you think?"

"I'd hate to hurt your feelings or inflate your ego, so I won't answer. What on earth were you doing while you were in the desert?"

"Visiting a friend."

"A Gerudo friend?"

"Yes."

Tallyn crossed his arms. "And you were offended that I've been to a brothel. Those women will devour you."

"That's not why I went."

"I'm sure."

"You'll understand why, soon enough." Link glanced away.

"It really was for the book?" He placed his plate on the low table before them, and Link placed his on top.

He nodded. "So what else am I?"

"What else are you?" asked Tallyn, "My, you're vain. That's one thing."

"Mm. Tell me more."

"You're… a wandering soul pretending to be a writer. You're an expatriate who is secretly homesick. You've broken about a hundred hearts, but you have no idea that you have."

"You make me sound terrible."

"I don't mean to," he said softly.

Link looked into his face, admiring his beauty. He fixated on a long, rouge lock of hair that had tumbled down between the bridge of his nose and eyebrow and, without thinking, brushed it gently away with his fingers. Link withdrew his hand quickly, suddenly conscious of his actions.

"Your hair is always in your face," he explained, "it's been driving me crazy."

Tallyn gazed back, his cheeks flushed. "Has it?"

He glanced down at Link's left hand for a long moment, and then picked it up and continued to examine it. He turned it to catch the light, and then somewhat aggressively rubbed his thumb against the Triforce symbol, as if it were a smear of dirt.

"Tallyn," said Link softly, "What are you doing?"

"Looking more closely at your Triforce."

"You seem to think you can abscond with my hand anytime you like, just because it's got an unusual mark."

He looked down at Link's hand and then back into his eyes. "I didn't think you minded."

Link stared back in surprise, feeling a flash of panic at being caught, and then looked away. Without acknowledging his comment, he wrapped his fingers around Tallyn's curious hand and stroked it slowly. He felt Tallyn startle, and then return his caress, tucking his little finger under his. Link fixated on distant points in the house without seeing them, for he was filled with heat and longing and the undeniable fact that they were intentionally touching each other.

When Tallyn let go, Link realized that he had crept up his wrist and slipped his finger under his sleeve. They looked at each other timidly and then both glanced away. Something electric had passed between them; everything was different.

"I should go," said Tallyn.

"So do you forgive me?" asked Link, standing and collecting the plates.

"There was nothing to forgive." He continued to incline his head away as he rubbed his neck sleepily.

"Ok, but do you really?" Link approached him, the nerves under his skin vibrating.

"Yes." He pushed his hair back behind his ear. "Yes, of course." He opened the door. "Everything was wonderful. Thank you for having me."

Link saw how tired and weak he was and dreamed of pushing him against the door jamb and… then what? Would he gently trace his cheekbones or kiss him or unbutton his shirt? And then after that?

"Anytime," he answered, dispelling his own thoughts.

Tallyn half-glanced up at Link and paused. "Goodnight," he said quickly, and then he was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

TALLYN

* * *

Tallyn returned from his morning run with a clouded mind. He re-imagined the previous night again and again, fixating on how audacious and obvious it was of him to reach for Link's hand, and how shocking it was to be touched in return.

He had felt this way once or twice before, but never toward someone of his own sex. It terrified him. Even worse, he was beginning to sense that Link knew exactly what was going on.

He was filled with dread at confronting his feelings and their complex origins. Fictional Sheik, who shared his birth name and appearance, was in love with Link. Tallyn, who dreamed that he was Sheik, was in love with Link. Which was real? Were his dreams influencing his waking life, or was his waking life causing the dreams?

He had allowed his mind, in his quiet hours running or at the bindery bench, to analyze and entertain every possible path his relationship with Link could take. Though his imagination was rich and explicit, it always reached a dead end. And then what? He could see no future.

In spite of what logic entailed, Tallyn found himself dressing with care, going as far as dabbing scented oil on his pulse. He changed his shirt twice, paced the room, scowled at his reflection, and then grew anxious and tried to scrub the scent off of his neck.

Nevertheless, Tallyn arrived at the library early, and began setting up the far end of the bench for Ilsia's lesson—he planned to teach her how to gild tooled book spines. After that, he organized the unwieldy tower of books by type of damage and selected a few orders and newly printed books to be bound that day. Patrons began to trickle in; the town historian, teachers hurrying to borrow books for their lessons, a few elderly men. He was surprised not to see Link, but then again, he had kept him late the night before.

Later in the morning, just before lunch, Tallyn looked up from his work upon hearing his name. He placed his paste-filled brush in a container of water and walked to the front desk of the library.

"Laina," he said with astonishment.

"Tallyn," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, "I haven't seen you in a while, so I thought I'd come by and say hello."

He looked her over anxiously. She was lovely, as always, with dark hair twisted in loose knots around her head, dark cow eyes, and girlish freckles. Tallyn had known her in school, and her parents had been good friends with his own, to the extent that she had been promised to him when she came of age, should they both find it agreeable.

"It's nice to see you," said Tallyn. "Come, let's take a walk in the gardens."

When they emerged outside, he offered her his arm and felt her gently take hold of it as they walked.

"You've been busy," she said.

"Yes, I suppose I have been."

She remained quiet, so Tallyn offered, "We've been given a set of encyclopedic textblocks from the castle, which has been my most time-consuming task to bind. There's also a new researcher who has been keeping me busy with unusual requests." He felt as though he was making excuses.

"Is that Link?"

"You've met him?" asked Tallyn in surprise.

"No," said Laina, "but a lot of my friends would like to."

"But not you?"

She shrugged and smiled. "He doesn't seem like the type who will stay."

"Ah," said Tallyn, his mind miles away. Not the type to stay? Did everyone but him see right through Link?

As they walked, he watched her fidget with the ribbons on her dress, and tried his best to divine the purpose of her visit.

"What have you been up to?" he asked.

Laina looked around at the flowers and bees and spoke without intonation about her social circle, gardening, a recent trip into Castle Town, and of their mutual friends' approaching wedding.

Ah, so that's what this is about, he thought. Her good friend was getting married, and here they were, two shy, eligible introverts who failed to stimulate each other at even the conversational level. She looked at him with conflict in her eyes, seeing in Tallyn stability, tedium, and attractive, but slightly unusual-looking children. He looked at her and saw long silences and longer hours of escape in the library. But she was beautiful.

They ran out of things to say somewhat quickly but continued strolling, remarking on the weather and flora. Tallyn retreated back to his thoughts: here was his future; this, or something like this. There was nothing, no future with Link, or alone with himself, for that matter. He was a useful member of the community, and it only made sense for him to provide for a wife and have children, who could grow up to be useful too. He could see no way around it.

But there was time. If it was true that Link would not stay, then what would it matter if he enjoyed his company while he had it? At least he could look back and remember his dear friend, the one he loved far more than a friend, just the way he was before he had to grow up, commit. If nothing else, he would always have the memory of those strange caresses, that naked hip, and his beautiful god-body.

Laina looked at him now; they were back in the bindery, then up at the front door.

"It was good to see you," she said, looking at him expectantly.

"Yes, and you too." He knew he ought to appease her, to make her trip worthwhile, so he picked up her hand and kissed it as sincerely as he could.

Laina was so surprised that she stepped close to him and kissed his cheek, lingering close to touch his face and look into his eyes. She looked both pleased and desperate.

Tallyn breathed in. "Well, I'll see you soon," he said, feeling desperate himself, wanting to run away, to return to work. After she left, Tallyn let out a sigh and turned to find an embarrassed-looking Link hovering nearby with a book in his hand.

"I didn't mean to intrude. I wanted to bring you a book with a busted cover that I found. I didn't mean to be standing there."

Tallyn cringed and began walking back to the bindery, roughly gesturing to Link to follow him. "I hadn't seen her in a while," was all he could think to say.

"Hm. She must have been missing you, then."

"I doubt it."

"I don't," said Link. "I think she likes you." He placed the book down on a table.

"Just stop," said Tallyn, adding a scoop of tea leaves to the pot.

Link shrugged. "Why else would she kiss you?"

"Why does it matter? Are you jealous?" Tallyn grumbled.

"Jealous? I could have a hundred girls, all at once if I wanted." He narrowed his eyes at Tallyn.

"Be quiet and sit." Tallyn poured the tea agitatedly and sipped it while standing. Link sat down heavily on a stool.

Just then, Ilsia strolled in, scanning the room and the two of them with her bright blue eyes.

"You're finished your lessons already?" asked Tallyn glancing up at the clock.

"I… well," she began.

"How many times must I tell you to stay the whole lesson through?"

"But I've already learned it."

Link raised his eyebrows and Tallyn passed him a small shrug. "That may be true, but it's bad manners to walk out when someone is speaking."

"I can't very well go back now," she said.

"Of course you can't. Well, we might as well start, then. Go clean your hands, please."

He felt Link's deep gaze piercing through his back, so he turned and addressed it. "You can stay if you want; she's just going to gild the patterns we tooled. It won't take very long."

Ilsia came back from the sink with her sleeves rolled up and her hair thrust back into a quick, asymmetrical braid. She sat down before the tooled leather and lined up her tools, glancing up at Tallyn for approval.

"Good. You can take up the tip and remove the shield."

Ilsia very slowly lifted the lid off of a suede cushion, revealing small squares of gold leaf that shuddered as she rested the lid behind it. She carefully measured the tooling against her little finger and slowly brought her hand down beside the gold to select an appropriate leaf.

Link stood and crept closer to get a better look, at which point Tallyn stopped him short by extending his arm. Link halted but crashed into his arm gently, ever so slightly, but it was enough to send a tiny breeze across the gold, causing the sheets the flutter around the cushion.

"Don't move," Tallyn said, letting his arm drop.

Ilsia cast an annoyed look back at them and soon got the materials back under control. As she dabbed her brush into the tacky gilding liquid, Tallyn felt a gentle intrusion, a careless lean of Link's shoulder against his own. As he carefully exhaled, he unwittingly touched against Link's hand and then quickly retreated. He continued to watch Ilsia with exaggerated attention, his heart racing, but made no effort to move away. Continuing their game, Link captured his hand.

"You smell nice today," Link murmured.

Mortified, Tallyn pulled his hand away and turned sharply to face him. "What?!"

Link humored him with a quick glance and then returned his eyes to Ilsia. "She's a natural."

Tallyn turned back to his student, flustered, and saw that she had beautifully laid the gold against the leather and was preparing the next area for leaf. "Yes," he agreed.

When Ilsia finished laying the gold, he stepped close and showed her how to use a gold rubber to pick up the excess to be used as gold dust.

"What do you do with the gold dust?" asked Link eagerly.

"All sorts of things," said Tallyn without looking up.

He turned to put the tool away and caught Link's eye, momentarily perceiving a serious, sultry note before it was lost to a look of vague interest and amusement.

"Let's go to the lake," said Link.

Tallyn furrowed his brow. "Not today."

"Can I come?" asked Ilsia.

"How about tomorrow?" asked Link.

"Yes!" chirruped Ilsia.

"We'll see," said Tallyn, flexing the broken cover of the old, dirty book Link had brought.

"Good. I'll see you then."

Ilsia grinned and tugged on Tallyn's sleeve excitedly as Link left the bindery.

* * *

At the end of the next day, Tallyn noticed that Ilsia was working hard to close the library early.

"What are you in such a hurry for?" he asked.

"The lake," she replied hastily, "we have to get to the lake while it's still light out!"

"Ah," he said. "In that case, it looks like we're just about ready. If you wish, you can go tell the patrons that we're closing soon."

"I already told them twenty minutes ago!" she exclaimed. "It's just us left!"

He furrowed his brow. "Go and fetch Link, then."

"He's sleeping, Tal. I tried to wake him but he keeps shooing me away."

"I've never known you to fail at waking a patron."

"He's your friend, can't you do it? I have to get changed," said Ilsia. Tallyn could have sworn he saw her smirk.

He sighed, put down his work, and climbed the stairs up to the reading area. Why was Link always sleeping? What was he doing with his nights? He turned the corner and reached his carrel, finding Link folded in a little heap on the desk, his strong shoulders and back apparent through his shirt. He had been musing over his little touch, how he had playfully grasped his fingers, and wondered what the point of their game could be, or if it all perhaps meant nothing. He was aching to touch him, but dreaded how he might respond.

Tallyn rested his hand on his back and dragged his fingers up to his shoulder, which he gently squeezed. He leaned close, daringly, he thought, and whispered, "Get up, before the sun sets." Before he could move away, he noticed that Link was smiling.

"I thought you didn't want to go," he said.

"What gave you that idea?" asked Tallyn in a quiet voice. "Ilsia will kill us both if you don't hurry. Come on."

Downstairs, Link took Ilsia's hand as Tallyn locked the yellow doors. They wandered down the little path to the lake, Tallyn lagging a few paces behind with his thoughts. They picked out a place on the beach and unfurled Ilsia's blanket and pinned it to the sand with books, while Ilsia threw off her dress and tiptoed into the water in her modest swimming suit.

"Aren't you coming in?" she demanded, her eyes locked on Link.

"In a minute," he called, pulling his shirt over his head.

Tallyn looked away and busied himself with the methodical unbuttoning of his own shirt.

"You're quiet," remarked Link.

Tallyn looked up. "You're sun burned." He leaned close to Link without looking at him and peeled a scorched bit of skin from his brown shoulders.

Link stared at him, his eyes wandering from his chest up to his eyes. Tallyn kicked off his shoes and reclined down at the other end of the blanket, unable to bear his gaze.

"When did Ilsia start working at the library?" asked Link.

"About four years ago." Tallyn turned onto his side and watched her playing in the water. "My father noticed her turning up at odd hours to read in the library. We used to find her sleeping in the reading chairs overnight too. He eventually let her work at the library after school for pay, and I'm certain he would have adopted her, if it weren't for her already having a living parent." He paused. "But I never hear much about her father; she's pretty much independent."

"Why doesn't she come live with you?"

"Because she feels she needs to continue taking care of her father, who is not very good to her." He paused again. "I try to help her with whatever she needs—she is like a sister to me. I won't be able to stop worrying about her until I see her happily married."

Link nodded, gazing out at the lake.

"If anyone deserves to take over the bindery, it's her," added Tallyn. "She's very talented."

Link eyed him sideways, biting his lip. He lay down at the opposite end, gazing back at Tallyn.

"Now you're the quiet one," he noted. Looking across the blanket at Link made him feel as though they were lying in bed together. He closed his eyes, and then opened them to find him smiling at him. Was it possible he was thinking the same thing?

Link inched closer. "Have you ever heard of the megaton hammer?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Tallyn could not help but laugh at the intimate tone in his voice and the arbitrary nature of his question. "Isn't that the mythical Goron weapon?" he replied.

"Yeah. But I can't find mention of it anywhere," said Link.

"It's probably in a Goron text."

"Not the one at the library."

Tallyn smirked. "Maybe you need to go back up the mountain. Or to the castle."

"Are you making fun of me?" asked Link.

"What do you think?" he replied.

Link had inched closer yet, creating a diagonal on the blanket. "I think we should go swimming."

"You go. You're breaking Ilsia's heart. I'm not ready yet." Tallyn reached for the book he placed in the corner and flipped to a page.

He heard Link stand and looked up in time to see him kick off his shoes and slacks and head for the water. He watched him splash and chase Ilsia for a moment before he placed the open book on his face and closed his eyes.

He wondered how much time he was willing to give to his fantasies. Another month? A year? And the flirting, the touches, the little games, how far should he let those go? Was it better to end it now? His mind was clouded. He thought about Laina; Laina with her dark hair, big almond eyes, and slender, soft limbs; about what it would be like to sleep with her, and what kinds of things they might talk about afterward. He guessed that they probably wouldn't.

No, Tallyn was sure that Link would finish his book soon and leave Kakariko within the month. He was counting on the book to answer some of his questions, for after all, he had been dreaming of the Hero, and Link was researching him. There was no way it could be an absolute coincidence. Something somewhere had to be real—the Triforce mark, the intense déjà vu from the desert, his dreams of the princess; something.

It was then, as Tallyn drifted off to sleep, that he stumbled upon a fragment of a memory which he would never realize was that of his very last breath as Sheik, the Hero's Guide.

He was kneeling in the desert, alone, in great pain. He had carefully chosen a spot where the winds collided and stirred up the sand, a place where he would never be found. He took out a sharp hunting knife, plunged it into his chest, and carved at his own flesh and wept until the world fell away.

He felt a small, wet hand rudely jostle his shoulder, causing him to startle and catch the book from falling down his face.

"Tal," said Ilsia, "it's going to be dark soon. Aren't you going to swim?"

"Am I?" He looked up at the red, cloudy sky. "No, I don't think so. I've just had an awful dream." He looked out over the lake and saw Link reclining on the tiny island across the way. He gestured for him to return. Link gestured back.

Tallyn stood and walked over to the water's edge and kicked off his shoes.

"Come on, Link," he said without raising his voice, knowing it would travel. He took a few steps into the water until it covered his ankles.

Link stood up and waded into the water, pausing to look for a moment back at Tallyn. Realizing he wasn't joining him, Link dove into the water and swam a slow, graceful stroke nearly to shore, standing when he reached the shallows where Tallyn stood.

"I wish you would have come out with us," said Link.

"The water's already too cold," replied Tallyn, looking at the pebbles through the clear water. "It will be autumn before we know it."

"But it's not yet. We ought to enjoy summer while it's still here." Link stepped close.

Tallyn felt only despair as his eyes raked over Link's figure, beautiful, wet, angled toward him suggestively.

"No," he fumbled, "I don't know- I mean, yes. Come on, though. We've got to take Ilsia back." He turned and headed back to the blanket, feeling Link's deep stare through his bones.

* * *

Tallyn unwound the press and extracted the mended book that he had left to dry overnight. It was a tattered book of old Hylian poems which he had repaired with a bright blue quarter-cloth binding and ochre-colored cover papers. He ran his fingers over the cover and opened it. His eyes fell over the difficult script, then found a clear word out of the flourishes, and soon adjusted to the pattern, finding another word, and then another, and then a beautiful phrase.

It was after just a few moments of crude, mechanical scanning that he saw it—first, mention of a glorious axe, then, there it was, a line about the great hammer forged in the volcano by the massive Gorons, the hammer that could break through a million tons of rock and earth—the megaton hammer. He would have to show Link. What else? A boomerang made from the seven winds, magic rings, explosives, a longbow, and a hundred other things. Tallyn flipped through the contents, read the passage, read it again, stuck his finger between the pages to mark it, and then summoned his courage.

He found him sprawled on the library's chaise, scratching away with his quill, stopping for a moment to dip into the jar of ink on the table beside him. Tallyn smiled at his unorthodox writing posture.

"I've found something that might interest you," he said quietly.

"Have you?" asked Link. He turned and cast Tallyn a curious look.

Tallyn furrowed his brows and looked at him and then away impatiently. "Yes. May I sit?"

Link pulled himself into a seated position, dropped his quill in the jar, and set down his book to dry. He followed Tallyn with his eyes and craned his neck at the book in his hands. Tallyn sat down beside him and opened it to the marked page, letting his hand touch against his thigh. He realized and shifted a little, but ah, how perfectly the book was splayed between them!

He explained what the book was and then lowered his eyes to read the stanzas about the hammer. He read one line, two lines, and then felt Link's hand, warm and gentle, slowly lift his chin, tearing his eyes away from the text and up to his own. Tallyn felt faint, felt indignant and determined to keep reading, felt denial, apprehension, and longing as Link scanned his eyes, looking north and south, and then north and south again, before they closed, and he drew very near, touching his parted lips to Tallyn's.

Tallyn drew in a little breath, panicking as the slow, careful lips brushed against and caught hold of his own. He closed his eyes, only for a second, he told himself, and that would be it, it would all be over. He should have known, should have immediately picked up on the codes he was sending, for wasn't it was the universal signal for "I'm going to kiss you" that he had been sent? It had happened so quickly, but then again, maybe it had been in the works for some time.

When Link moved his hand, it was enough to startle Tallyn out of his foggy haze. He withdrew from the soft, curious kiss, and then stood quickly, dropping the book from their conjugal lap and backing up to the balcony. He looked around desperately; they were alone.

"Why did you do that?" Tallyn demanded. He could not read Link's expression.

"Why did you let me?" he replied in a quiet, considerate voice.

Tallyn shook his head, alarmed, and then turned and hurried down the stairs to the bindery. He entered his office and closed the door behind him. Sprawled out on his desk were two large maps that he had been humidifying in the closed space. He sat down at the desk and stared at one, an early map of Hyrule, his eyes tracing the Zora River from Kakariko to the Gerudo Valley.

A thousand thoughts whipped through his mind. Was that a joke? Could Link really be serious? If so, didn't he realize that what he wanted was impossible?

He closed his eyes and touched his lips, licked them, and fantasized hopelessly about Link, about what might have happened if he hadn't fled. To be kissed by a boy… it was vey strange. He could admit to himself that it had felt nice, more direct and rough than kissing a blushing, melting girl, but nice nonetheless. Did that make him the girl, he wondered? Had he melted? Tallyn assured himself that he had not. He wondered if by now he was still in denial about what could happen. Yes; no. His feelings were clear, but he was even more uncertain about what to do about them. Link had done the unthinkable and opened the door, so now that it was open, would he actually walk though it?

* * *

He woke early with intentions of getting as much done as possible before the library opened, before he had to tense his shoulders and wonder what he could possibly say to Link that day. The morning air felt crisp and smelled of hearth fires.

When Tallyn turned the bend to the library, he began to sense that something was wrong. The air was thick and black with smoke, and as he got closer, he realized it was pouring out of the second floor of the library. Tallyn ran into the building, up the smoky stairs, and into the north wing, where two cases of classical science texts were ablaze. He rushed at the adjacent stacks, pushing against the hot wood with his shoulders to force the shelves to collapse away from the fire. His eyes burned as he raced back down the stairs, out the door and up the street to the mayor's residence, where he had the emergency bell sounded. Builders, stonecutters, millers, laborers of every kind were roused from their beds and collected hurriedly in the town square at the windmill. They quickly divided, forming a long line from the well to the library, passing bucket after bucket of water. A crowd began to gather.

Tallyn's mind was racing as he shakily passed the bucket up the stairs of the library to those who tossed it directly at the flames. Shortly after, he heard yelling and the clambering of the tossers toward the steps, and then a loud crack and groan as the floor in the north wing collapsed onto the bindery and books below. He rushed to the bindery and managed to grab his father's tool wrap, and then wandered around in a blur, pushing away the hot rubble, grabbing a book from the press, tidying a stack of finished books, until he felt himself pulled away by one of the workers and thrust outside into the cool, clear air.

"Are you insane?!"

"Am I?" he heard himself reply. His vision was doubled; he clutched his head with one hand and felt around for a wall with the other, dropping all of his tools onto the grass. He felt the worker grip his shoulders, and then everything went black.

Tallyn awoke shortly after, back in his own bed. For a moment he could not recall whether he had ever left for work, when he suddenly remembered the events of the morning. He turned his head and saw Link, to his utter shock, sitting close and studying him with worried eyes. Ilsia was there too, thankfully, and occupied herself with tracing the pattern on his rug with tight footsteps. She stopped when she heard him stir and rushed to his side. Tallyn sat up.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You were wandering around the bindery while the building was still on fire. You inhaled a lot of smoke." Link gave him a firm, punishing look.

"Yes, well," said Tallyn, swinging his legs out of the bed, "I'm fine now, thank you. I need to get back there."

"No," said Link, putting out his hand, "the fire's out, there's nothing anyone can do until it all cools down."

"I need to go," he said standing.

"No."

"I appreciate your concern, but I must go. I just need to see… see how much of it…" he pushed his hair away from his eyes.

"Listen to Link," urged Ilsia.

"At least have a cup of soup and recover your nerves," Link offered.

Tallyn drew in a little breath and raised his eyes to Link's. Link met his gaze and then looked away distractedly, touching the back of his neck and studying the wall. Tallyn cringed. He wished for anything but awkwardness.

Ilsia left to heat the soup, and they found themselves alone.

"Was it you who pulled me out of there?"

Link, his eyes away, replied, "Yeah."

"Thanks," said Tallyn, coughing. "Come on. You must be hungry too, what with all the heroics."

He became aware of his own heartbeat when Link smiled at him. Could it be, he wondered, that they could make peace, be friends beyond this? As Link stood, his body only inches away, inches above him, he considered whether he even wanted peace. The thing he truly wanted was impossible. He passed Link a look that he hoped would convey that, and led the way down the stairs.

* * *

Tallyn bent down and picked up the burned fragment of a book, and looked up at the building. Black smoke had stained the north widow, and he could only imagine how it had ravaged the interior. Fire, heat-damage, water-damage… he longed to survey his ailing books, but the village soldiers, starved for duty, firmly insisted he could not go in. Instead, he stalked around the perimeter like a cat, peering into lower windows, worrying and mourning.

It was not until the next morning that he was permitted to enter. The fire had devastated the upper north wing, but to his relief, most of the books he had pushed over had survived, and the fire had not spread out into the upper hall. Downstairs, the floor-collapse had fallen on top of some of the children's books, and a large part of the bindery. His north-facing work table and screw press were in a heap on the floor, recent work and debris were scattered everywhere, but his office, central workspace and larger presses were largely unharmed. He let out a sigh and collapsed into the chair in his office. The carefully humidified maps had curled again from the dry heat.

Tallyn began his assessment and formulated a quick rough plan to remove as many books from the first and second floors as needed for the repairs. The window would need mending. The entire library would need to be carefully cleaned of all the soot and debris, and he would need to do some repairs in the bindery. New shelves, new orders for books that had been destroyed; an enormous investment in money and time would need to be spent. After boarding the window and discussing his plans with the head builder, Tallyn went back home to begin writing letters requesting support.

* * *

In the midst of cleanup the next day, one of the builders pulled Tallyn aside.

"Do you know the stranger who is helping?"

"Yes," he replied, realizing that he was referring to Link. "He is Link from Olous, he's been doing research in the library for the past several weeks."

"He shouldn't be here."

Tallyn hesitated. "Yes… well, he is Hylian, though."

"I don't care if he is from Castle Town," he said, "it's wrong, and it's bad luck for outsiders to be involved with town affairs."

"I'll talk to him," Tallyn replied feebly.

When everyone stopped to take a break, Tallyn approached Link and led him down the road with him to a quieter street, and told him what the builder had said to him. Link listened attentively, his lip pursed.

"So what can I do?" he asked. "I can't just sit around and do nothing while everyone else is working."

Tallyn shrugged. "Take a trip. Finish your book." He could not help raising his eyes curiously to gauge Link's reaction.

"A trip? To where?" His eyes met his: curious, blue, cloudy.

"Wherever you'd like. The lake should be quiet, this far into the season," suggested Tallyn. "The real lake, I mean. Lake Hylia. Or the desert, or wherever, or just stay."

Link's face softened as he listened. "To the lake," he said at last, "yes, I guess that would be nice." His gaze penetrated Tallyn, full of doubt and subtlety and emotion that Tallyn did not wish to see. He looked away.

"They have cabins you can rent that are pretty inexpensive." He was keeping the small talk alive, anything to avoid changing the subject to the things that haunted both their minds.

"It's not a bad idea. Would you come visit, once you've done all you can here?"

Tallyn hesitated. "I guess I could, maybe. But wouldn't I be a distraction?"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I thought that."

Tallyn nodded. Link was not playing games, pretending that nothing had happened, as he was. "Well, why don't you write me when you get there, and I'll let you know if I become useless here."

Link's face was expressionless. Tallyn touched his upper arm and gently squeezed it. "Thank you, Link. And I'm sorry." His arm felt hard strong, warm. He withdrew his hand. Link gave him a forced smile, and turned around and left for Impa's house.


	9. Chapter 9

LINK

* * *

Link let the door slam behind him. He was offended that Tallyn would ask him to stay out of the recovery efforts, as if he were a tourist, a nobody. He paced up and down Impa's kitchen and stopped to scowl at a squash that had ripened too quickly. It would all need to go, to be cooked and eaten if he was to go away. He placed the squash on a board and cut off its head, tail, rind, and soon enough, he had it diced into small cubes and was reaching for the mushrooms, tomato, onion, decimating them as well. Into the pan; onion first. He lit a fire and then unfurled a leg of lamb, then crushed herbs and salt and aromatic roots and sprinkled them onto the meat, rolling it and tying it back up into a neat parcel, seasoning again, tossing it into Impa's cast iron pot. Still fuming, he put the rice to cook.

He knew, was certain that Tallyn felt something toward him; his reaction to the kiss spoke volumes. He recalled how Tallyn had unknowingly gasped, sucking in a tiny bit of Link's breath, and then how he had let himself relax, just for a second, before pulling away. He had acted too soon and startled him; maybe if he had waited another week, things would be different.

A week? A month? What good was it pursuing him at all when he knew he would lose him the moment he read his manuscript?

Link packed a few books, pens, ink, papers, and his copious notes into a travel bag along with clothes, soap, and other provisions. He put aside a small bit of food for himself and packed the rest of the meal up in curved wood containers and left the house, taking the back roads Ilsia had shown him to Tallyn's house. He let himself in easily, spread the food out on the table, and then quickly left town.

He took the southwest road through the plains and found it much as he remembered. Link allowed his shoulders to finally relax as the smell of sweet grass and wildflowers filled his senses; it would not be long now until he reached the lake. The stone walls by the lake came suddenly into view, only they were new and taller and patrolled by two soldiers. When he reached the gates, he asked them politely about the cabins, all while craning his neck around them to catch a glimpse of the glittering water. They were good natured and gave him directions. At last, Link passed through the gates to the hills of the lake valley, where he was astounded to see a few market stalls by the old laboratory, signs for woodland paths, bungalows by the Gerudo Falls, and families playing and bathing in the lake. He picked up a key to a cabin on the far end of the lake that was only accessible through the woods. It was isolated, quiet, and the perfect location for finishing a masterpiece, the clerk explained. Link bought some fresh fruit and bread and started down the woodland path with his horse.

He put down his pack and surveyed the small cabin: there was a bed, a stove, and a table where he could write. He decided he would go for a quick swim and then write a letter to Tallyn.

As he swam out to the large rock ahead of him, he reflected on his time with Sheik, time that added up to a maybe a few hours total, maybe even less. Why was it that he still longed for him in this life? Could he blame Zelda, the gods, or his parentless upbringing? Could it be just another thing that had gotten fucked up from traveling between two Times? Though aware of the social taboos of such yearnings, he felt he would rather die than be dishonest about how he felt, and to be certain, he tested his will with a long, breathless dive. When he surfaced again and the spots disappeared from before his eyes, they were immediately replaced by the shy visage of Tallyn.

Looking back on the weeks and months he saw only a great expanse of wasted time, a scarce resource; he had ultimately abandoned his plan to collect fragments of his other life and to revive Sheik from the depths of Tallyn's mind. He had dawdled through the royal task to which he had been assigned, preferring instead to cause mischief and resurrect ghosts. What was he left with? A manuscript and Tallyn, the gorgeous boy from this world who looked and talked like his Sheik. The princess, whom he did not love, and who did not love him, but who silently loved Tallyn with him, together. Zelda knew that Sheik had loved Link, but was it enough to transmit across Time, and through to an unaware iteration of him? Even if it was, what could possibly come from it?

Link emerged from the water, nude and sulking. He dried himself, dressed, and spread his books and papers across the table, taking a blank sheet to write to Tallyn. He debated whether he ought to be descriptive of the camp, as if a botanist or marine scientist writing to his colleague, or whether he should sound jubilant, or desperate, or pleading, or lonesome. He settled on something he felt was neutral and honest:

_Dear T.,_

_I've just arrived at the cabin in the far north end of the lake. It really is as beautiful and peaceful as you described. _

_Should you find a break in your work, I would welcome your company. Hoping all is well._

_Yours,  
L._

He took particular care in writing, "Yours," since he meant it with every fiber of his being. Was it too formal? What sort of tone was most appropriate for inviting the one you offended with a kiss to a cabin in the woods? Link folded the note and walked back to the crowds and market stalls.

* * *

After three days of proofing and editing, Link awoke from his nap on the beach when the dark shadow of a cloud fell across him. He opened his eyes, blinking away the blurriness only to find that it was not a cloud obstructing the sun, but the beloved form of Tallyn looming over him with an unsuppressed grin.

"Hi Link," he said, sitting down beside him before Link could stand.

Link was unsure whether he was dreaming. "You—you came?" he stammered.

"Yes, of course I did," Tallyn replied. "Thank you for cooking for me the other day. It was such a nice surprise to come home to." He eyed Link shyly.

"Oh—right. It would have otherwise gone to waste." Link paused. "What do you mean, 'of course you did'?"

"It was sort of my idea, coming to the lake, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but I thought…"

"You thought…?" began Tallyn, but then he quickly closed his mouth and glanced away.

Link stared at him for a moment, baffled by his appearance and insufficient explanation. "Yes, I did."

Tallyn pushed a stone back and forth on the ground. "I see… I'm sorry you thought that. I probably said the wrong thing; I wasn't thinking very clearly a few days ago." His face was calm, but he was blushing noticeably.

"So you didn't get my…" said Link, trailing off.

"Your what?"

"Never mind. What's happening with the library?"

"Well, after we got most of the books from that area to a safe place, they began working on the floors and making repairs in the bindery. There is nothing I can do until they've finished."

"I'm glad you came then."

They both paused and looked out across the lake, at the boulders by the water's edge, the great dead tree on the island, and the waves gently lapping on the shore.

"How's your book?" asked Tallyn.

"It's coming along. I'm down to editing." Link looked over and saw that Tallyn's gaze was fixed on him. He brought his eyes back to the lake, challenging himself not to stare back.

"So, do you think that…?" he began.

"Yes, I suppose," replied Link hastily. He hated to think what might happen after he fulfilled his promise and allowed Tallyn to read his manuscript. He began to compile a mental list of places he could travel to once it was all over.

Tallyn pulled off his shirt and unfastened his shoes. He stood, kicking them off and loosening his pants. "Come on," he said.

Link, feeling anxious and somewhat aroused, followed suit slowly, mentally distracting and counseling himself as he stripped to his undergarments. He did not look up at Tallyn, but walked swiftly toward the water. Tallyn caught up with him and clutched him by the arm.

"No cheating. We'll see who can reach that far island first."

Link smiled faintly, basking in the brief contact. If only Tallyn knew how familiar Link was with the lake, he would never have challenged him.

They reached the island after a few minutes, Link arriving first as he had expected. He watched Tallyn stand and climb ashore, his gray shorts soaked and clinging, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"You went around the reeds," said Tallyn.

"I did." He could not tear his eyes away from Tallyn. Why had he ever asked him to come? "Do you know what's beneath us?" he caught himself asking.

"No," said Tallyn. He sat down next to Link.

"The Water Temple." He reclined back on his arms and closed his eyes. Those slender hips, that smooth skin. Why, why…

Tallyn was quiet. "How do you know that?" he asked at last.

"You can sort of see it if you dive down far enough. Plus, all texts point to this place."

"This place," he repeated, scanning the great dead tree. Tallyn lay down beside him. "I haven't been here since I was a boy."

"Me neither," said Link without thinking. Tallyn caught him instantly.

"You've been here?"

"Yeah. I stayed here my last night in Hyrule."

"Your last night," said Tallyn, "…Why did you ever leave?"

"I was young," said Link, "I wanted to see more. There was a lot I was running away from, too."

"Like fame?"

"That too."

"What could an eleven-year-old boy be running away from?"

Link glanced away and said nothing.

"You can't keep acting so suddenly mysterious, after what we've…" he stopped and looked up at Link, his mouth still slightly ajar, unable to finish his sentence.

This time, Link caught Tallyn's near-slip and stared back at him brazenly, refusing to look away. Tallyn blushed, looked away and looked back, the amber passages in his eyes catching light from the setting sun.

"What?" he asked.

"What do you mean, what?" replied Link.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? You know what." Tallyn shaded his eyes.

Link gauged him curiously. Could he be referring to their kiss? "I have no idea what you're asking."

"Yes you do."

"Maybe you're asking the wrong question." He wondered where this all might be going, and began to mount his defense. There was no way he would cede a confession if Tallyn was still in denial.

Tallyn paused. "Then, why?" he asked, sitting up.

"You know why."

"I don't, otherwise I wouldn't be asking."

"I'm surprised. You're usually more perceptive than this."

Tallyn flinched at Link's words. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Test me, then." He propped himself up on his hands.

Tallyn was unable to hide his shock. "What do you mean?"

Link shrugged, his eyes passing Tallyn a look declaring, 'you know exactly what I mean.' Tallyn looked back at him, his eyes filled with anxiety and indecision.

After a moment, Tallyn leaned in close to Link. "Test you?" he whispered.

He was so close that he felt the heat from his blush and soft breath. As Link began to lean away, Tallyn captured his face with his trembling hand and brought him close again, and then politely kissed him on the mouth. He pulled away after a short moment.

"Do you believe me now?" Link exhaled.

"No," whispered Tallyn, and he leaned in and caught his lips again, kissing him deeply this time. He sucked his bottom lip and explored his mouth with his tongue, alarming Link's more innocent sensibility.

Tallyn broke the kiss before things could intensify, but remained close. "I can't believe I just did that." He closed his eyes and promptly stood. "This is madness. I'm sorry I did that."

Link stood and took his hand in his. "I'm not." He felt the heat of his own blush all the way down his body. They both looked out at the far shore, about a five-minute swim away. "Are you getting hungry?" he asked softly.

* * *

The air was cool when they emerged from the water, so Link brought out a pair of towels. He started a fire in the pit in front of the cabin and placed the metal grate over it, covering it until it became hot. Link prodded the flame and watched Tallyn put his clothes back on. He felt around on the ground near the log and located his own discarded clothing and pulled them on too, and then put the lake trout and vegetables to cook over the fire. Tallyn sat down on an adjacent log and took out a book from his pack. He eyed Link wordlessly and then glanced down at his page, soon becoming absorbed by the words illuminated by the flickering fire.

They ate quickly, Tallyn praising Link's cooking skills every time he tried something different on his plate. They talked to each other in soft voices, making small-talk and asking each other easy questions. When they finished, Tallyn insisted on washing the plates, and brought them over to the metal bucket by the side of the cabin. He sat back down beside Link, who handed him a flask.

"To warm us up," he explained. The fire was beginning to die down.

Tallyn scooted closer to him, accepting the flask in one hand and resting his other hand on top of Link's.

"Thanks," he said, taking a drink. He traced the triangular mark on the back of Link's left hand."Tell me again how Ganondorf shattered the Triforce."

"You know the legend." He looked down at their hands.

"He would have had to enter the Sacred Realm," he replied, "but how?"

"I'll tell you another time," said Link, slipping his hand around Tallyn's waist.

Tallyn flinched and quickly moved away. He glanced over at Link uncertainly. "I'm sorry, I…" he mumbled.

"No, no, it's my…" Link dropped his hand. When he finally dared to meet his eyes, he found them smoldering. "…my fault."

Tallyn looked away and took a long drink from the flask. They were quiet for several long moments, until Link noticed the stars. He cleared his throat.

"There's the hunter and the boar. Or, as they see it in Ys, the sea god and the dolphin." Link paused. "What do you call it here?"

Tallyn craned his neck upward. "Where do you mean?"

As Link described the stars, Tallyn inched his way closer. He smiled when he found what Link was describing.

"Oh, that cluster there? I'm surprised you don't know it. That's the goddess Din with her arrows of fire."

He inched closer still, close enough that he could rest his head upon Link's shoulder if only he were to incline his head to the right. Link's pulse quickened, but he dared not make a move again. The space around them felt thick with tension, as if every star and tree and drifting firefly was holding its breath. Tallyn pointed out all the constellations he knew, and told stories about some of them, until he noticed Link's heavy presence against his shoulder.

"Are you sleeping?" he asked.

Link shifted awake. "No. Are you an astronomer?"

"No," replied Tallyn. "I'm a bookbinder."

"Would have fooled me," said Link.

"Are you teasing me?"

"I would never." His heart was racing again. He tried to look at the sky and the black lake, anything but at Tallyn.

"You would," he replied, narrowing his eyes at Link.

Link glanced at him and took the flask from his hand. He drained the liquid and stood up, feeling the warmth spread across his chest.

"Where are you going?" asked Tallyn.

"It's late," sad Link flatly. "I'll get a bed together for you." He stood and began walking toward the cabin.

He had not yet reached the door when he felt Tallyn grab hold of his wrist. As he turned, he sensed Tallyn draw closer until he was only inches away and could feel his soft breath against his cheek.

"Wait," he said, touching his forehead against Link's.

Link shuddered and tried to peer at Tallyn's eyes through the dark, reluctant to act as he feared misreading his actions again. Tallyn nervously breathed a ragged little sigh before taking Link's face in his hands and kissing him.

His doubts from earlier, their surprisingly aggressive kiss, the stars in the sky; they all melted away and he felt the goodness and honesty that attracted him so much to Tallyn, and the sweat and lava and sorrow that was Sheik. He gently backed him against the doorjamb and let out a small gasp of surprise when Tallyn pulled his hips against his own. As Tallyn fluently ran his hands over his arms and back, grasping fistfuls of shirt and dragging his fingers against his skin, Link shyly slipped his fingers beneath the neckline of his shirt and touched his neck and clavicle with trembling hands.

They stumbled into the dark cabin and paused for a breathless moment to meet eyes with one another.

"Is this…" said Tallyn, "I mean, should we…?"

"Hush," whispered Link, placing his lips against Tallyn's. He kissed him again, slowly, and began to unbutton his white linen shirt. He let his other hand trail down his chest, over his nipple, down the smooth contours of his abdomen. He slipped the shirt off completely while Tallyn kissed him and tugged his gray tunic over his head. He lowered to his knees as his mouth wandered down Link's body to the waistband of his pants, and he unbuttoned his fly and kissed all the way down to his smallclothes. Link pushed his fingers through Tallyn's fair hair, anxious of where he was kissing him, and dying to know what would happen if he kept going.

Kissing and undressing, they crept nearer to the bed in the corner of the cabin. When the backs of his knees hit against it, Link sat down and gently urged Tallyn down onto his lap. He closed his eyes and savored the closeness of his hot skin, the weight of his body, and the repressed fierceness in Tallyn's kiss. He fell backward, and felt his hands gently grasp his undergarments and slide them off. He blushed deeply, both ashamed and thrilled to be naked before him, and felt his way up Tallyn's shorts. Tallyn let a moan escape into Link's mouth and writhed out of the rest of his clothes.

Link rolled onto his side and took hold of Tallyn's cock, feeling more sure handed than he ever had with a woman.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmured as he kissed him.

Tallyn, blushing deeply, followed suit and stroked his lover as if it were himself.

Tallyn drew in a sharp breath. "Harder," he exhaled.

He soon came on Link's chest, or on his own chest; they were lying so close and had peaked right after the other that it was impossible to tell. Opening his eyes, Link observed the hot, vulnerable form of Tallyn, out of breath and looking at him with the most intense gaze he had ever seen. All of the coy, playful glances that Tallyn had been sending to him all these weeks amounted only to a flicker, a shade of what his eyes conveyed to Link now.

"I'm sorry for teasing you earlier," said Link.

"Maybe I like to be teased," replied Tallyn in a low voice. He wound his arms around Link and rested his head on his shoulder.

Link lay awake for a few moments longer, wondering if he had finally achieved that which he had so fiercely desired. Intimacy was one thing, but so many words remained unsaid between them.


	10. Chapter 10

LINK

* * *

Link woke and found himself alone in the bed. He got up quickly, pulled on his slacks and hunted for his shirt, eventually giving up and putting on Tallyn's. He brought the collar up to his face and breathed in his scent. Looking out the window, he saw Tallyn sitting on the shore gazing out at the lake. He smiled and began to cook breakfast on the tiny stove inside the cabin.

When Link had finished cooking, he came outside and sat down next to him. Tallyn, wearing Link's gray shirt, looked over at him with big, worried eyes that reminded him of Sheik on the day when the shadow spirit was released from the well.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You know what," replied Tallyn.

Link paused. "You mean what's next?"

Tallyn gave a slight nod.

"There's breakfast."

"Don't be an idiot." Tallyn shoved him and looked away.

Link drew close and kissed his jawline. "I don't know," he replied at last. "I suppose we just try to make it work for as long as we can."

"Are you going to stay?"

Link hesitated. "Only if you want me to."

"Yes."

Link stood and offered his hand. "I thought we might go to the forest today. There's something I want to show you."

Tallyn took his hand and pulled himself up. "The forest?"

After washing and gathering some provisions for the day, Link and Tallyn set off on a rough path east of the lake that drew them deep into the woods.

"Shouldn't you be using a compass by now?" asked Tallyn after they had been walking for an hour.

"I know where I'm going," said Link. He turned and faced him. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," he replied, "Of course I do."

"Don't worry." Link smiled and grasped his hand, intertwining his fingers between Tallyn's.

They walked quietly for some time, chatting occasionally about the library. They squatted down to drink from a cold, flowing river, at which Link smiled.

"Tastes like home," he remarked. He told Tallyn about how the water that flows through the forest originates from the valley of the gods far away between the great mountains to the east. "Better than Zora water, no?"

The path was soon speckled with unusual lush plants whose names Link could not help but list, and the trees suddenly loomed way high overhead. He pointed out mushrooms and berry shrubs with both poisonous and edible fruits, burrows and dens of rabbits and foxes; he spied a shy deer and fawn passing by, and talked at length about the nesting habits of owls and songbirds in the region. Tallyn took his hand and stopped in his tracks. He cradled Link's face with both hands when he came near and kissed him for a long moment.

"Hush," he whispered, with his eyes still closed, "I want to hear what the forest has to say."

They stood and listened for a minute, until Tallyn opened his eyes and shrugged. "It says just what you've said."

Link smiled at the compliment and took his hand in his own again. "We're almost there."

Within the hour, the forest gradually began to thin, though only on the loose path they followed. The path ended in a cliff, below which rested the small Kokiri village in a clearing. A branch of the little river cut through the village, terminating in a little pool in front of a wooded area. There were hills, fences, homes carved from massive tree stumps and twisted root structures, bridges, ladders, wheelbarrows, and other signs of industry. Link smiled at Tallyn's astounded face.

"Is it real?" asked Tallyn.

"Would you like to see for yourself?"

Tallyn was agape the whole way down the cliff face, constantly glancing over his shoulder to take in a new view as he worked his way down the rock and root holds. They landed behind a carved house painted with stripes of purple madder and indigo. Link walked around it and looked at the front for a long time.

"This was my best friend's house," he said at last. He led the way to a house off on its own at the bottom of a hill. It was still in the state that he had last seen it, overgrown with grasses and mushrooms and green moss.

"This was my house."

Tallyn grabbed his arm and stepped close to him. "Could we go inside?"

Link rubbed his neck. "Sure."

They climbed the creaking ladder to the mossy balcony and stepped inside. The entire house was covered in dust and the ubiquitous yellow pollen of the summer. Tallyn looked around the small space with wonder in his eyes. He squatted down and rested his hand on the small bed, and then the chest of drawers, which he pulled open and peeked at the green clothing inside. He touched the walls, looked at the humbly framed drawings, and curiously examined a few papers that were held down under a rock.

"Link, do the Kokiri have their own language?"

Link was thoughtful. "There is an ancient language that I never learned, but the writing corresponds to the common tongue."

"Did you write this?"

"Yes."

"What does it say?"

Link took the piece of paper and looked at it for a long moment, and then chuckled. "It's a little embarrassing. It says:

_"Dear Friends, I am going away into the world because I am not a real Kokiri. Please don't mess up my house  
while I'm gone. I promise I will be back to visit. -Link."_

Tallyn loomed over his shoulder. "So that's your name, that last bit?"

"Yeah."

"Amazing," he replied. "Do the Kokiri have books? Is there a library or an archive?"

"They're not proper books, the way we think of them, but they do have paper from pulped plant fibers, and inks from different tree nuts, and they're usually kept bundled like a scroll, or between great leaves or pieces of bark."

Tallyn's mouth was ajar. "Wow. Could we-?"

Link shook his head. "I've never been allowed to see the archive. I don't even know exactly where it is." Sensing his disappointment, he offered, "I could write you the alphabet, or something. I'll do it when we get back to the lake. But, come on, you haven't even seen what I wanted to show you yet."

Tallyn took a last look around the room and then followed Link back out. Link led him out of the village and into the thick, murky woods.

"Where are we going?"

Link grinned a secret smile. "Into the Lost Woods."

As they walked, Link frequently paused to gather his bearings, slashing overgrown brush to relocate a path that Tallyn could not see. They walked for about half an hour through the buggy, humid overgrown forest before reaching a clearing. Link could sense Tallyn's relief at the sudden openness. He took his hand and led him across the soft, pale green grass to where the trickling stream collected into a mossy pond. He splashed the cool water on his face and sat down.

"Are we here?" asked Tallyn, "it's beautiful."

"Not yet. I thought we'd have some lunch," Link replied.

They pulled the cold leftovers and some dried fruit from the pack and Tallyn arranged it on a flat rock while Link gathered berries nearby.

"You have to try these," urged Link when he sat back down with a huge handful.

He placed a cone-shaped berry to Tallyn's lips. Tallyn bit it gently and sucked the juice that dripped down Link's finger.

Link felt slightly aroused and looked away to finished his portion, anxious to move on.

"I've never seen such a wonderful place. Link, I never want to leave," declared Tallyn.

"Oh?" said Link, "Maybe that's the answer, then. We could live in the Lost Woods, and become Stalfos together."

Tallyn pushed him. "Really, Link."

"I mean it! When we become cursed, we can join the clan of skeletal warriors and attack the living," said Link.

Tallyn was quiet for a moment. "I'm afraid we're already cursed."

They pressed on, the path still jagged, but beginning to thin. At last, they reached a second clearing, masked in fog with a stone wall ahead. Link proceeded cautiously, and then quickened his stride, drawing Tallyn into a hedge maze beyond the wall.

Tallyn was shocked again. "A hedge maze!" he exclaimed, running his hands over the little round, waxy leaves of the hedge shrubs. "Do you know the way?"

"Not really," said Link with a sideways smile, "but we'll find it."

Tallyn keen navigational sense led them through almost the entire maze, across a little stream that ran through the bushes, and to the end. A narrow marble staircase flanked by the hedges yawned before them. They took the stairs up above the maze and found themselves in another verdant clearing. At the far end of the meadow were the ruins of a staircase, and above it and all around the meadow stood a massive stone castle covered in moss and vines. Tallyn was paralyzed with awe.

"This is…" he began.

"It is," said Link.

They crossed the meadow, passing over a hexagonal mosaic with the four-leafed symbol of the temple in the center, and stopped at the base of a lone tree that grew beside the crumbled entrance.

"Want to go inside?" asked Link.

Tallyn nodded, his eyes wide.

Link cautiously scaled the tree and inched his way over to the temple's porch. He watched Tallyn climb with ease, and held out his hand when he was close. He took his hand and gingerly stepped off the branch and joined Link inside the entrance.

Trees had burst through the floors and wrapped themselves around the pilasters, splaying their branches and leaves against the walls and forming an indoor canopy overhead. The door ahead was decorated in geometrical moldings characteristic of ancient Hylian architecture. The door before them was of a dark, dense hardwood inlaid with stained glass. Link opened the door and had to peel Tallyn away from the intricate moldings and into the corridor. They reached the temple's atrium and stood for a moment to take it all in. Link let his eyes fall out of focus like he had done with Saria and watched Time chase itself across the ceiling and walls. He debated mentioning it to Tallyn, who interrupted his thoughts just as he decided that he would not.

"Is this place… alive? Maybe it is my eyes, but… it looks like it's… changing."

"What do you think it is?" asked Link, leading him down the staircase.

Tallyn stopped and rested his hand on the railing. He looked at it closely, and then looked away. "I don't know. Magic? Something we ate?"

Link shrugged. Tallyn eyed him curiously.

"It's almost like… those time objects you were interested in."

"Yes," said Link, "I started noticing them after I came here."

He led them through a door out into a beautiful courtyard. There was a large well, vine-covered walls, a tall, crumbling structure, and a bridge that passed over a little man-made stream. Tallyn walked over to the bridge and peered down into the green, algal water. Link watched him approach the ruined structure and study it closely. He looked up when Link came near.

"Link, this is just incredible. I doubt anyone has seen this place in hundreds of years."

"You're probably right."

Tallyn hesitated. "It doesn't feel right to keep it to ourselves. This is a part of our ancient culture; it should be studied, made available." He looked into Link's eyes. "What do you think?"

Link sighed. "That's a nice idea, but… what will it become if people find out about it? The Lost Woods would get torn apart for roads, the Kokiri would disappear; the temple would be reduced to a novelty." He placed his hand on his arm. "This is just for you and me. If the temple is meant to be re-discovered, it will be."

Tallyn looked down, and something caught his eye. He bent down and pulled a small, corroded thing from the ground and held it out in his hand.

"An arrowhead," he said, gazing at it, turning it over in his hand.

Link scrutinized it for a moment. "Careful, Tal. See what happens when you look away from it."

Tallyn looked up at Link, away from the object, and gasped. He looked back down and watched it with amazement. "It disappeared, and then flickered back, like…sort of like a flame blown by the wind." He looked at Link for an explanation, but he only shrugged again and leaned against the bridge, looking into the water.

"Why did you want me to come here?" he asked carefully.

"Because I wanted to share it with you. I didn't want to be the only one who knew about it."

Tallyn looked at him with clouded eyes. "I'm so amazed, Link. Not just amazed… I'm scared, terrified. How can you know about all this, when no one else does?" he asked in a soft voice. "Why were you raised in a forbidden forest instead of being left to die? Why did the gods choose you to bear a piece of the Triforce? Why were you sent to the princess when you were a boy? There's… something big you're not telling me."

"Tal," said Link pathetically, "let's go before it gets dark." He grabbed hold of his hand.

Tallyn took a last look at the courtyard and drank in the views of all the rooms they passed through before arriving again at the tree by the porch. Tallyn turned to him, his eyes stormy. Link gently pushed him against a column and kissed him deeply, running his hands along his jaw and neck and through his hair. He worried that their time was nearing an end.

"Let that be your answer, for now," he whispered in his ear. "Soon you will know everything, and you will hate me."

"I could never hate you," Tallyn mewed. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again.

Link climbed down first, and smiled in surprise when he reached the bottom. Tallyn landed behind him and gasped at seeing what appeared to him to be a green-haired child.

"Tal, this is my best friend Saria. Saria, this is Tallyn."

"It's nice to meet you." She giggled and looked up at Link.

Tallyn looked surprised again. "Saria," he said softly, "are you really a Kokiri?"

"Yes…" she paused. "You've taken something from the temple."

"I did. Is that all right?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, looking up at Link, "he would have wanted you to have it anyway."

"Who would have wanted me to have it?" he asked.

Saria looked at Link again. "Should I tell him?"

Link looked away and then shook his head.

"Come on."

Link made an uncertain face and then looked back down at her.

She beamed. "The Hero, of course, from the Other Time."

Tallyn looked at Link for a long moment, the hint of a blush beginning to color his cheeks. Link stared back, worried, and his heart began to ache when he realized they were standing in approximately the same places as they had in another life. He wondered if Tallyn realized it as well.

"Are you going home, Saria?" asked Link, tearing his eyes away from Tallyn.

She nodded and took Tallyn's hand. Link smiled and walked behind them, catching murmurs of Tallyn's questions to Saria every so often. In that moment, he was able to appreciate the incredibly rare friendship he had with Saria: there was nothing dramatic, no hard goodbyes, no expectations, no judgment, just simple love. He silently wished that they three could be a family, perhaps with Ilsia too, and they could live in the forest together, away from the world.

Back in the village, Tallyn and Link said their goodbyes to Saria and continued up the steep, rocky cliff to the hidden path that led to the lake. They did not speak much on the hike back, but caught eyes with one another every so often.

By the time they reached the cabin, it was dark and they were both tired. Tallyn started a small fire in the pit and cooked some potatoes along with some dried fish while Link scribbled away at his manuscript inside. He quenched the fire and brought the pan inside, at which point Link cleared his things away and looked Tallyn in the eyes.

"I'm nearly finished."

"That's great," Tallyn replied.

"Is it?" asked Link apprehensively. "I'm not so sure anymore." He watched the conflict creep across Tallyn's features.

Tallyn reached out and touched his hand. "I feel that we will both have the answers to our questions soon."

Link looked away. "As do I, and I fear it."

"You mustn't. We're both strong enough to endure whatever tales you've spun or mysteries you've unearthed. I promise."

"Don't promise," said Link.

Tallyn paused at his words and smiled to himself.

"What is it?"

"I was thinking about the Forest Temple," he replied.

"Mm. What did you think of it?"

"What did I think of it?"

"Yes."

"Are you really asking me what I thought of a legendary ancient castle where our earliest Hylian ancestors once dwelled, that has been lost for centuries?"

"Well, I don't suppose they were _your_ ancestors, but..."

Tallyn cast him a sour look. "Really, Link?"

Link watched his expression change from annoyance to one of sweet sentiment.

"It was the most marvelous thing I've ever seen," he said at last. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

Link smiled to himself and brought a handkerchief filled with berries to the table. The juice from the crushed berries stained most of the fabric dark purple, but many fruits were still intact. He watched Tallyn's eyes light up as he reached for a few berries, and did his best to memorize his innocent, unconscious smile. Tallyn regarded Link just as closely, watching him suck on a berry while his eyes threatened to close. He stood and offered his hand, which Link took wordlessly. He lay him down on the bed, climbed on top of him, and gazed down upon him with soft eyes.

"Do you have any idea how long I've dreamed of being this close to you?" asked Tallyn in a quiet voice.

"A few weeks?"

"I suppose, though it feels more like lifetimes. I've been dreaming of us, and in the dream I'm dreaming of us, and within that dream I see us again. The dreams reach far enough back in time that we look like the ancients, and beyond that, a meadow and a stream, or a pair of stars."

Tallyn's words drew the fog away from Link, and he looked up at him with bright eyes. "Are we happy?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "For moments. In one dream, we are warriors fighting in battle together. In another, we are proper lovers, a man and a woman, but we don't belong to each other. In the one where we wear ancient clothing, I am your teacher."

Link looked into his eyes, longing to catch a glimpse of the stories from their souls' past. "Will you write them down for me, the dreams you see?"

Tallyn lay down beside Link and considered his words. "You've asked me once before. Does the Royal Family care something for the dreams of smallfolk now too?"

"No," said Link, drawing close and wrapping his arms around him. "It would be just for me."

"We'll see." Tallyn kissed him, and Link, exhausted from anxiety and drunk on his affection for Tallyn, allowed himself to become lost in the kiss, caring for nothing but his lips, soft flesh, wet tongue, and warm body against him. He had no idea when or how they had lost their clothing.

"Wait, wait just a minute," said Link, laughing softly. He left the warm bed and snuffed the cabin's lamps, save for one, which he brought to the bedside table. "I want to see you," he said as he climbed back in.

After they had made love, Link shifted a few inches and let his eyes dreamily pass over Tallyn. He drank in every hidden part and committed it to memory, filling in all the gaps in his fantasies with the slope of a hip, the oblong freckle on his chest, the subtle curve of his penis. He looked over at his boyish face and saw him gazing back with a sleepy look.

"It's impolite to stare," murmured Tallyn, covering himself modestly with a sheet.

Link smiled and pulled the sheet back. "It's a crime to hide such beauty."

Tallyn pulled the sheet over both of them and drew him close. "A crime…" he mused.

Link looked at him quizzically.

Tallyn licked his lips. "Do you think what we're doing is wrong?"

"No. Do you?"

"I wonder."

Link touched his face tenderly. "A few years ago, before I came to the monastery, I was hired to fight in the civil war in Ys. In the camps, it was not unusual for a young recruit to be closely mentored by a soldier a few years his senior. They would eat, train, and fight together, and at night they even shared a bed together."

Tallyn blinked his eyes, surprised. "Did you ever have a mentor?"

"No. I trained with them, but I was young and different, so they kept me separate in most things."

Tallyn traced the pink, scabbed cut on Link's chest, and then dragged his finger down to a thick scar on his abdomen. "Is this from Ys?"

"Yes. This one too." He guided his hand down his thigh to a slightly raised diagonal scar.

Tallyn touched it gently, sending chills down Link's back and stirring him to arousal again. "Was it worth it?" he asked.

"Worth what they paid me?" he considered for a moment. "Probably not. But working in the army of Ys gave me a rare opportunity to travel across the sea, twice."

"Twice?" repeated Tallyn in a tired voice.

"Do you have any scars?" asked Link, touching the crook of his hip.

"Not really. Just here." He presented his left index finger to Link. "I nearly nipped it off on a guillotine shearer when I was younger."

Link kissed his fingertip, and then folded him up in his arms. He remembered Sheik's wrappings, and wondered what kinds of scars he bore in the Other Time. He felt Tallyn drift off to sleep, and soon let his own eyes close as well.


	11. Chapter 11

TALLYN

* * *

Tallyn woke up in Link's arms, warm and safe, listening to the heartbeat in the crook of his neck. He immediately began to smile—it had been far better than he ever could have imagined. He hoped Link didn't mind it too much. Tallyn ran his fingers along his jawline, his clavicle, his scabbed cut, down the twists and folds of his tight, contorted abdomen, along his hip…

"Darling," murmured Link, catching his arm and folding it against his chest. He urged Tallyn to roll onto his side and then fit him again into his arms like a puzzle piece. "Go back to sleep."

Tallyn tried, but was too thrilled—the temple, the embrace, Link's gorgeous body—it was almost too much for him to bear. He crawled out of Link's arms, dressed, and took the fishing pole and basket down to the small wooden dock. After an hour or so, he had caught a medium-sized trout and was baiting his line for another when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Anything biting?" asked Link.

"Some," said Tallyn, standing and presenting him with the basket.

Link took it and gazed shyly back at Tallyn. He looked away.

"How are you… feeling?" asked Tallyn.

Link shrugged. "Fine."

"I mean, about…"

"Fine," Link repeated, staring at a tree with great interest.

"I have to go back to Kakariko, Link."

Link's eyes snapped back to him. "So soon?"

"They said the floors would only take a few days, so…"

"I see," said Link. "It's probably time I returned too… perhaps to look for work now."

Tallyn waited for him to go on. "So you've finished the book?" he asked when Link offered nothing more.

He nodded. "Take it with you. I'll come back to the village in a day or so, after I've tied up my ends here. Tallyn…" he paused for a moment, "please don't think me mad or a liar when you read it. Think of it as… a story written from many clues buried in the old legends, for the purpose of entertaining the princess."

Tallyn smiled. "Don't worry, Link. I'll read it gently."

Link remained troubled. He stroked Tallyn's hair and kissed him on the corner of the lips before turning back to the cabin. Tallyn shivered, still thrilled by the newness of their affections, and followed him back to the camp.

They ate a small breakfast and Link cooked the freshly caught trout over the fire and packed it in waxy paper for Tallyn to take on the journey back to the village. Though the mood was somber Tallyn felt both excited and apprehensive about the chance to finally read the book.

Link walked with him to the stables and pulled him behind a tree before they reached the wood structure. He kissed him hard.

"Tal, I…" Link shook his head. "I'll see you soon."

Tallyn was suddenly aware of their proximity to other people. He looked over his shoulder nervously and kissed him back softly, hurriedly.

"See you soon," he agreed awkwardly, wondering if he ought to have said something more meaningful. He slipped out of his arms and walked a few paces ahead, and in a moment they were both greeted by the stable boy. He gave the boy a few rupees, led his horse out to the road, and looked back at Link.

"Goodbye, Link," he said, somewhat more solemnly than he intended. He glanced over his shoulder a few more times until Link grew too small to see.

* * *

It was night by the time he reached the village. He rode past the library, looking much as it always did save for the heap of charred wood and rubble at the foot of the great north window, and then, soon enough, he was home. He could hardly wait to open the pages of the book but he forced himself to be patient, and took a bath and ate a small supper of bread and cheese.

Tallyn sat down with the book at last. He examined the binding and found that it was a cheap, second-rate structure, of the sort sold in the market for ledgers. He wondered if he could persuade Link to copy it into a lovelier book, something that would befit the royal family's collection. Opening the book by its simple blue cloth cover revealed the block of off-white pages flecked with bits of wood and stem.

He read at first with a small smile, for the writing was simple and descriptive and reminded him so much of Link's actual voice, but he soon lost himself in the stories of spiders and dragons and princesses. The Kokiri forest tumbled forth from the pages as lush and mysterious as he had seen with his own eyes only a day ago, and he ventured through descriptions of the sulfurous dodongo cave, and found himself stricken with awe of the great faeries, the lake god Jabu-Jabu, and the dreams of Princess Zelda.

But then, the story took a turn. The castle fell, the princess escaped with her attendant Impa but was pursued by Ganondorf. Link retrieved her ocarina, opened the Door of Time, pulled the sword from the pedestal, and then…

…Tallyn saw his name. It was not 'Tallyn', the name his foster father had given him after his own father, but it was his old name, the one he silently possessed but had never been called: Sheik.

He stood up, feeling suddenly cramped, and stretched his arms above his head, and then began to pace. How long had he been reading? He poured himself some wine and looked at the clock. Two hours. Two hours of reading, and he had found himself woven into the story. Was this what Link had warned him about? He chuckled, wondering if he hadn't simply misread the name.

He returned to the book and saw that he hadn't. Link described Sheik carefully, from the length of his hair and color of his eyes to his lithe posture and the words that he spoke. Tallyn read them again and again, and found the words familiar in his mouth as he dared to mumble them out loud. His heart racing, he devoured the next passages, of Link's hunt for an artifact, and the humble inventory he took of his new body. He was just as he was in his dream, Tallyn thought, exhaling slowly; the green clothes, the shield of the kingsguard, the brocaded sheath and legendary sword. How strange to hold the thoughts and deeds of his dream-Link in his hands!

Tallyn shifted and ached, but read on, becoming increasingly anxious to reach the end, as painful emotions trembled beneath his skin, erupting every time he read a description of Link meeting Sheik. He read about Link's trials in the desert, his frustration at reaching a dead end, and then that terrible moment when they met for the last time, when they said goodbye. Tallyn had unwittingly experienced this memory once before, and it frightened and pained him to relive it again. Link's words struck him hard and confirmed what he had been feeling himself.

_When Sheik stole away behind a pillar of sand, Link felt his heart break somewhere deep in his chest. It was then that he knew he was no longer a boy, but a man grown._

Not only did the passage steal Tallyn's breath away, it came dangerously close to being inappropriate. He read on, exhausted, and with a hard lump in his throat. The princess appeared in the Temple of Time disguised as Sheik, to Link's confusion, and was captured at last by the evil king. Link ran headlong into the bowels of the castle to rescue her, facing more challenges and growing even stronger. The battle was phenomenal, Tallyn remembered through Sheik's own eyes, watching from afar, dearly wishing he could have fought beside him. And then Link was gone, dispelled from that time, and he ended his memoirs with a few remarks about what he learned in this life about the legends and the Sacred Realm, and regrets for having been so young.

Tallyn closed his eyes and curled up in the plush chair where he had been sitting. Link's broken heart had echoed his own. It occurred to him that in that life, Link would never know that he had had a friend, another sworn ally besides Zelda, another soldier besides himself. Moments in time drifted across his closed eyelids like a play. The memories pooled like a well brimming with water; they saturated his vision and spilled over as sleep finally took him.

* * *

He awoke late the next day with an intense feeling of dread. As he washed his face and peered into the looking glass, Tallyn was surprised to see how healthy he looked, and surprised again that he should expect himself to appear more gaunt and weathered. He walked back over to the book on the table and touched the cover. It was just as he had suspected, and it indicated that Link had been having the same dreams all this time. But why? Tallyn felt no closer to an answer.

He shoved his hand through his disheveled hair. He knew he was lying to himself, and he did have one possible answer, but it was too painful to accept. Tallyn placed the kettle on the stove and felt himself slip into the familiar déjà vu of the day he waited for Link at Lake Hylia.

The ground shook as water came flooding from the ice-logged underwater passage to Zora's Domain, and he felt a powerful rumble as water poured from the temple beneath his feet. The water was clouded from the sudden stirring of the silty lakebed, now littered with chunks of ice and lake kelp. He heard Link behind him, and tried to suppress his smile beneath his cowl. He spoke to him without turning around to face him, but soon felt Link standing beside him. He finally looked up and saw his eyes, and they were starved and curious and sleep-deprived. Sheik stopped prattling for a moment, stunned at their closeness, and laid a hand on Link's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're safe," he confessed.

His mind raced on, past memories of watching over Link on the road, and his own path that took him back to Kakariko. He cringed and reached far back, remembering just one memory of his thirteenth birthday, but two sets of memories for his fourteenth. In one memory, he remembered receiving a leather paring knife and eating sweets with his parents, but in the other, he was crying as he carried the corpses of his neighbors to a great fire so that they would not be devoured by the wolves. Had those images always been with him? He saw more. Tallyn survived for a month in the ruins of the village before they came for him. Women and older children were taken to Ganondorf's camps in the sacked Castletown; many others were put to the sword or fled to the mountains.

Over and over, the two-sided memories flashed before his mind's stage. He tended the shop for his father for the first time; he was smacked with the flat of a jagged blade for spilling the wine he served to Ganon's minions. His first kiss with Melena, the baker's daughter; the first time he was savagely violated by the enemy soldiers. Teaching Ilsia how to sew signatures together to form a text block; being gashed on the arms, legs, and back by the soldiers' cruel swords.

Tallyn squeezed his eyes shut and begged the gods to spare him from seeing any more. His head was splitting with pain as he tried to suppress the words and imagery from two more years of agony and humiliation. Some memories passed by in a blur, some he modified in his subconscious with darkness or silence or false words in order to protect himself.

Tallyn fought his way back to the present. He looked around and saw that he had fallen into a chair. His eyes darted around to the clock, to the kettle; the long hand showed only a minute had passed, the kettle corroborated with its barely-moving tepid water. He knew he should eat something, but couldn't motivate himself to do so. The memories took a turn.

A small band of rebels attacked and burned the camps. Impa, a Sheikah woman in disguise, carried him away to a far-off place. Tallyn did not remember much from that time; he bathed often and did not speak. But Impa spoke to him, even if he never responded, and he silently heeded all of her kind words. She told him that she knew his birth mother, that they had been not-so-distant cousins. She told him his name was Sheik, and asked if he would like to be called that.

It was not just Impa, but there was also the beautiful princess-in-exile, disguised as a Sheikah, in hiding with them in the abandoned villages and cave systems in the M. province. She cared for him, taught him to play the lyre, and told him stories from Hylian legends as he slowly grew strong again. Before long, he began to train under Impa so that he might serve the princess as her royal messenger and guardian of the Hero.

Tallyn was inducted into the craft guild as a master; Sheik learned to grind medicines and to disappear behind a cloud of smoke.

His hands were shaking. He had felt the tremors of horrific flashback memories within his memories and struggled to separate them from his own present life. These things had happened to Sheik, not Tallyn. Or rather, it was Tallyn, but in a different Time, a Time that split away from this one and careened off into space. What was his future in that Time, he wondered nervously? What was Sheik doing right now? He waded through his new memories, but was unable to call upon his parallel self in the would-be present.

He closed the valve on the stove and paced around the house, frightened and electrified by the images in his head. He made himself a cup of tea and took Link's book and a red pencil upstairs to his desk. Tallyn mercilessly struck out misspellings, restructured unclear sentences, and wrote comments where he thought information should be added or omitted. The task took his mind off the shock and pain at remembering earlier years, and he hoped it would also serve as a small punishment for Link. He was angry that Link showed him the book despite having suspicions, and angrier yet at himself for his own persistence to see it.

He paused and blushed where Link had punctuated his account with moments of longing for Sheik, and Tallyn was beginning to acutely feel Sheik's very same struggle—the desire to talk to him, to be his friend, to touch him, and the oaths he swore that forbade it all. He remembered how carefully Sheik had suppressed of his affection for Link, and how it had swelled inside him until it collapsed under its own weight and came to resemble a feverish, secret love. By the last pages, Tallyn recalled how difficult it was to watch over him, how it made him want to die to speak only hollow, ancient words to him.

He swooned to imagine how Sheik would react if he could see himself and Link now.

* * *

Tallyn manically paced through the house and scavenged for food. He could not sleep and had lain awake for hours, winding and unwinding his spool of memories. Whenever his eyes began to close, he felt the dirty, lecherous hand of a soldier and the pleas of mercy on his lips. It was no good; for every sweet memory he recalled, there seemed to be ten nightmarish ones. Opening cupboards and pacing helped to ward off the more terrible images.

Though he sensed that it was very late, Tallyn impulsively changed his clothes and went for a run. The cool air ripped across his face as he looked out on the highly developed village and took stock of which buildings had burned and which had never been built in the Other Time. When he returned home, he heated water for his bath, washed, and somehow fell asleep, still wet and only partially dressed.


	12. Chapter 12

ILSIA

* * *

Ilsia came early in the afternoon the next day while Tallyn restlessly slept. She brought in the mail, took inventory of his provisions, and then retrieved some money from his stash and left for the market. When she returned, she quickly pulled together a vegetable soup, her hands nimble and assured beyond their years. She brought a bowl of soup up to Tallyn's room and set it beside him, and then shook him gently awake.

Tallyn sat up with a violent start, and was soon comforted by the presence of his apprentice.

"Ilsia," he said.

"Tallyn. You look terrible," she replied, sitting down on the bed. "Have some soup."

Tallyn did as he was told and looked up at her curiously.

"Link sent me—I had thought you were still away. You should have sent me a note, I would have been over sooner if I knew you weren't well." Her face grew dark. "Or _he_ would have come. He said the only thing stopping him from breaking down your door was the possibility that I had a key. He sent you a letter." She pulled out a small letter sealed with wax. "Oh, and you've got some other mail too."

Tallyn sat up and carefully opened the letter. Ilsia watched him read it, pause, and read it two more times. He looked suddenly anxious.

"Ilsia, would you mind bringing me the rest of my mail?" He ran his hand through his hair and looked around distractedly.

She hopped off the bed and went downstairs to dutifully retrieve the little pile she had brought in. Flipping through, she saw another letter that looked just like the one she had brought. It caused her to purse her lips with worry: why was Link sending him so many letters after they had been together only days before?

Though she had a keen, observant eye and had read many more books than any of her peers, there were still things that Ilsia struggled to understand, one of them being the strange relationship that had developed between Tallyn and Link. She had seen them eagerly converse, do thoughtful things for each other, and even flirt to a degree, but she also saw them turn shy, or moody, or even angry with the other just as frequently. She could not work out whether they were friends, competitors, or lovers, and whichever it was, she hated to see either of them hurt.

She had also been somewhat aloof with Tallyn lately, which he might ascribe to her age, but which in truth had to do with how Tallyn was treating Link. He had never had close friends, and she clearly saw how his cool demeanor often hurt Link, who was such a different person. Link was strong, handsome, funny, and a patient listener who always made time to sit and chat with her. He had given her a lovely red stone, which he called a cheap trinket, but which Ilsia knew was, in truth, a genuine Goron ruby. She loved him in a secret, defensive way, for she was realistic enough to see that Link was at the perfect marrying age and would likely not wait around for little girls to grow up.

For these reasons did she worry about the contents of the letter, but she ascended the stairs and dutifully placed the mail in Tallyn's hands nonetheless. He immediately plucked Link's letter from the pile and carefully opened it while Ilsia climbed back onto the bed with him, craning her neck to see. Tallyn pulled it out of sight and read it quickly, his feelings manifesting on his face first with surprise, and then with a deep blush.

"What's he say? Why are you blushing?" she demanded.

Tallyn got himself out of bed and pulled on a clean shirt.

"Nothing… says he's worried… I've got to write him back, right now."

He pushed the book to the side of his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. He wrote in short bouts, pausing anxiously to search for a word, and then he crumbled the sheet and threw it in his paper bin and began anew. Ilsia approached quietly as he sealed it and peered over his shoulder.

"What's this book?" she asked.

"Just a project I'm working on." He folded up the letter hastily and then closed and locked the tray of his desk over the book and stashed the key in his pocket. "I'll be right back," he said, and hurried down the stairs and out the door.

Ilsia felt a twinge of bitterness at being left alone after she had come to take care of him, but she soon shook it off and set to work tidying his room and putting fresh sheets on the bed. When a few moments passed and Tallyn still hadn't returned, curiosity got the better of her, and she pulled the wadded-up paper out of the bin.

Words were struck out and ink blots covered the page from being crumpled while still wet, but even so, Ilsia could make out the beginning of a message:

_Dear L.,  
_

_It pains me that I have caused you so much (-worry- -trouble-) worry, and I (-apologize-) am sorry it has taken me this long to respond. I've (-remembered everything-) taken somewhat ill after reading your book, and am punishing you now with ruthless edits. (-At the lake I should have told you-)_

She looked it over again, the crossed-out words in particular. He had caused Link trouble? He'd remembered something? What should he had told him at the lake? The note confirmed that the book was indeed Link's manuscript, as she had suspected, but she wondered why Tallyn might blame his illness on the book. Suddenly hearing the door below, Ilsia crumbled the note back up and continued putting the room in order.

Tallyn came up the stairs to see what she was doing. He stopped and smiled.

"Thanks," he said. Then pausing, he asked, "Do you want to take a walk with me to see how the library is progressing?"

"Okay," said Ilsia, laying a folded shirt on the chair.

They walked into town, around the bend, and up to the library building. There were men milling about, climbing up and down the steps with tools and wooden beams. One of the workers recognized Tallyn and came near with a report.

Ilsia patiently waited while he spoke to Tallyn ("should be a few days yet… there's sanding and finishing to be done before we can move the stacks…") and then took his hand and urged him to check out the bindery.

He thanked the man and followed Ilsia's lead. Once inside, Ilsia stood back and smiled as Tallyn took in the cleaned-up bindery with a look of surprise on his face.

"Did you have them clean up the debris and make repairs, Ils?" he asked.

"Yes. I made sure nothing was lost, too."

"That was very excellent and thoughtful of you," said Tallyn. His eyes were no longer anxious or wandering, but they looked at her with warmth and kindness.

Tallyn began poking around and organizing the bindery some more, and Ilsia went to read in her favorite chair.

* * *

She found Tallyn an hour later in his office staring at the wall and looking ill.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

He seemed hardly to notice her, so she came closer and grasped hold of his hand. "Are you feeling sick again?"

His eyes drifted toward her and he gave a slight nod. Ilsia tugged at his hand until he understood that he must stand up, and he obediently followed her out the door, through the bindery, and out into the courtyard.

"Maybe it's fresh air that you need?" she suggested somewhat nervously.

Tallyn looked at her and shook his head.

"Home, then?"

He let her lead him back home, while Ilsia bit her lip and began to worry that he really was ill, maybe even mad. She made up her mind that she would fetch the doctor if he did not improve. She led him to his chair by the window where he liked to read and brought him a book she found on the table. She heated up the soup and prepared another meal, so he might have something more if he got hungry. When Ilsia turned around, she found Tallyn still silent, clutching the book in one hand and massaging his forehead with the other. He regarded her with a mixed expression.

"I'm going to fetch the doctor, Tal."

"Don't," he managed.

"You need sleep. You look awful." She closed the valve on the wood stove. "I'll come back tomorrow, ok?"

"I don't need a doctor," he repeated quietly.

Ilsia kissed his cheek and bade him goodnight. She left by the front door, and hesitated for a moment before turning down a lane that brought her to the East Road, and then up to the house on the hill that used to belong to Impa, a great Sheikah woman. She knocked and Link soon answered the door.

"Ilsia," said Link, "what's the matter?"

She had begun to shiver in the cool evening, but the sight of Link warmed her. He let her in and she cast her eyes around the beautiful, simple interior of the historic house before setting her mind to business.

"Link, Tallyn's not well. He doesn't want me to get a doctor, but… well, would you check on him tonight, if you're not too busy?" she asked.

He blinked, and then got a flustered look on his face. "Of course I could, but… are you sure he wants to see me?"

Ilsia threw her hands up. "What is it with you two? You're hot, then cold, then you go to the lake, and then he thinks he's sick from your book-"

"He told you about the book?" asked Link.

"No, but I'm not an idiot. What could have made him sick? Are you really such a bad writer?" she asked.

"Maybe," mused Link. "It was a mistake to show it to him. I just hope he hasn't…" he trailed off and began hunting around the house for something.

Ilsia left and returned home, pausing and taking in a deep breath outside her door as she always did. She was young, but felt suddenly old and weary, tired of taking care of people. As much as she detested the idea of marriage, she longed to grow up and run away with someone strong and kind, and leave her father's house and control forever. Ilsia put on a cheerful face and opened the door.

* * *

The next day, late in the morning, Ilsia went again to Tallyn's house to see how he was doing. She was surprised to find Link at the door a long moment after she had knocked. He looked warm and sleepy, as if he'd just gotten up—adorable and boyish, Ilsia thought. His hair was disheveled and he appeared to have hastily dressed.

"Ilsia!" he exclaimed awkwardly. "Come in, would you like some tea?"

She looked over his shoulder and saw the kettle bubbling happily over the stove, and Tallyn slowly descending the stairs beyond the kitchen.

"Yes," she answered in her business tone, to mask her adoration. "How's Tallyn?"

Link led her inside and closed the door. "He's all right, I think." He cast a glance over his shoulder at Tallyn, who was lurking in the doorway, dressed but similarly disheveled.

"I'm all right," he replied softly.

They sat down at the table and Tallyn poured them each some tea. They exchanged glances as they sipped; Tallyn and Link, Link and Ilsia, Ilsia and Tallyn, but said little to each other. Ilsia pretended not to mind and took the opportunity to steal looks at Link, at his covered left hand stirring in sugar, his warm, flushed cheeks, and the little smile that was never far from his lips. He caught her staring at one point and winked, causing her to look down into her tea with embarrassment.

After the tea, Link stood up to leave and bid goodbye to the two of them, and came behind where Tallyn was sitting and murmured something in his ear while Tallyn closed his eyes and listened with a little nod. Link tousled Ilsia's hair as he walked by and left the house.

Ilsia looked up at Tallyn, who appeared thoughtful and far away, and wondered why Link had ended up staying over. Had Tallyn had a bad spell last night? They had both seemed so dreamy just now that she began to wonder if they were, in fact, lovers.

"What do you want to do today, Ilsia?"

"Let's have lunch and then go into town." She wanted to look in the windows at ladies' dresses and riding boots and armor and books.

"All right, let me go wash and I'll fix us something to eat."

Ilsia was glad to let Tallyn indulge her with his cooking, just as his father used to when she was younger. She washed the tea cups and settled herself in his chair while he washed and dressed in the other room. She looked at the book that was resting beside her—the same one she had handed him yesterday—and saw that it was about the selective retention of memory. How curious, she thought! And she began to read the first pages.

They left the house shortly after and walked up and down the little strip of shops on the main road. When Ilsia had had her fill of window shopping, Tallyn took her to the northwest branch beyond the windmill where there was a popular shaved iced shop.

"What flavor would you like?" he asked, acting the kindly older brother.

She selected a raspberry ice, and after Tallyn paid, he asked if she would sit and wait for him while he ran a quick errand.

"Can't I come?" she asked.

"No, you can't bring the ice into this place. I'll only be a minute," he promised.

Ilsia sulked and nibbled her ice but then decided to move outside to a bench to take in a better view of the people passing by. There were people with laundry, children with their mothers, but also sketchier people too—a man with a pointy beard looking over his shoulder, a babbling old beggar woman, a pair of young men laughing and also casting looks over their shoulders. She wondered what sort of thing Tallyn could possibly need in this part of town.

Suddenly curious, Ilsia stood and ran in the direction Tallyn had, and was able to just catch him in her sights when he turned the corner. She followed him warily, and peeked around the corner in time to see him enter an old witch's shop.

How odd. She returned to her bench outside the shop and was eventually joined by Tallyn before too long, though certainly longer than a minute, with a funny incense smell about him.

"Where did you go?" she asked.

"I went and got some—ah, medicine," he replied. His face looked at ease.

"Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" she asked

"I'm sure," said Tallyn, taking her hand in his. "Come on, let's go home."


	13. Chapter 13

LINK

* * *

"Here it is, I've finished editing it," said Tallyn.

Link looked at Tallyn carefully. He looked much calmer than he had when he saw him the night before, but also somewhat nervous.

"Editing the grammar, or…?" Link asked.

Tallyn drew in a breath. "Yes, the grammar, but also… some content," he said, his voice slightly higher than usual. "There were a few facts you had wrong… and some of my words, as well." He looked slowly up at Link.

Link felt a pang of dread. "Your words? Do you mean…?"

Tallyn nodded and pressed the book into Link's hands. He took a step forward and hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Link to catch the shy blush that spread across his face.

"I remember everything," he whispered.

"No," said Link, shaking his head. "It can't be so. It was just a story." He took a step toward him and was surprised when Tallyn stepped back.

"Sorry," he said. "I know you tried to warn me."

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?" asked Link.

"I couldn't," he replied.

"Tallyn," began Link, putting the book down on the table and clasping his hands, "Come sit and tell me everything."

Tallyn gently withdrew his hands from Link's. Link noted the gesture and tried not to dwell on it. He led him to the couch and sat down at the far end.

"Where to begin," said Tallyn, hesitating.

"Do you remember the first thing I ever said to you?" interrupted Link.

Tallyn offered a small smile. "Yes. You said, 'who are you?'"

"And do you remember what you told me?"

Tallyn paused. "I told you that I was Sheik, survivor of the Sheikahs." He passed his hand through his fair hair and wore a look of deep melancholy on his face. He looked up at Link. "You've never heard me call myself that, have you?"

"Not in this life."

"And what do you think?" asked Tallyn, smiling sadly. "Am I what you expected? Are you disappointed?"

"No," replied Link, "no and no and a thousand times no. You're more wonderful than I ever could have imagined."

Tallyn regarded him carefully, and then vaguely spoke of his adolescence in the Other Time, and how it differed so dramatically from his present memories. He told him how he had watched over Link and seen him mature into a fine hero.

"How did you, or Sheik, feel about me?" asked Link.

Tallyn grew tense and looked away. "You were the Hero of Time. It was my charge to guide you, teach you the songs of awakening, and keep you safe."

"That's not what I mean," said Link firmly. "What you told me in the letter—did you feel that way then, too?"

Tallyn would not meet his eyes. "Link," he said at last, "I don't know what to say. All of a sudden I have a second voice, another conscience inside me, which is questioning my every thought."

His words struck Link hard. He took a moment to digest them before speaking. "Sheik was an entirely separate person from you— he was who you became in another life. He would have _been_ you if things were different. Tal, I just need to know… whether it is a coincidence that you ever cared for me without knowing of Sheik…"

"Who says I didn't know about Sheik?" said Tallyn softly. "Damnit, Link. What do you want me to say?"

"You wrote me a letter yesterday and brought it to me yourself—there was no postage. But you say you weren't in a sound mind. And now that you remember…" he shook his head, "Just tell me simply, what did Sheik feel, and what do you feel?"

Tallyn stood and began to pace agitatedly. "Of course Sheik loved you, wasn't that obvious? All those 'longing amber gazes' you mentioned? There was _nothing_ he could have done. It was forbidden."

Link paused, his heart twisting and aching in his chest. "And you?" he asked after a moment.

"I told you already," he said in a low voice. "But would that I never did, because it's absolutely impossible. Time repeats itself, and nothing changes."

"That's not true," challenged Link. "Look how prosperous this world is."

"It may be a different landscape, but the shackles are the same."

"I disagree." Link drew near to Tallyn and took his hand. He felt it trembling in his. "No, in this life we have far fewer burdens and responsibilities. It is a gift from the gods."

"You're talking madness. What would you have me do? Move in with you like I'm your wife? Run away to some far away place and start over?"

"Yes."

Tallyn shook his head, but Link could feel him beginning to yield. He pulled him into an embrace and leaned his head against his forehead.

"Are you all right?" asked Link after a moment.

"No, I don't think I am," said Tallyn.

Though he wanted to kiss him, Link let him slide deeper into his arms and nestle his face into his shoulder.

"I'll make you some tea."

"I should go." Tallyn took a step back and glanced up at Link. "I'm going to start back in the bindery tomorrow."

"Could I stop by and see you?"

Tallyn hesitated. "Yes, of course you can." He looked as though he wanted to say something more, but instead turned and left.

Link stood staring at the door, hoping he might change his mind and come back, but he did not. He walked over to his memoir and flipped the pages, noting the tidy, red writing that covered nearly every page.

* * *

Link sat up all night reading Tallyn's edits. He thought most of them were just, but disagreed with the ones that urged him to adjust the way he described Sheik, or his feelings for Sheik: Tallyn thought they were too obvious and emotional.

After some hesitation, Link finally decided he would go to the library and see whether he might discuss the book with Tallyn. He packed his book and some pens in his leather bag and stepped outside into the tepid air. On his walk he noticed that all the yellow and red summer flowers had gone to seed, and leafy green weeds stood in their place. He entered the library through the big yellow door, which was unlocked even though it was not yet open again to the public.

He roved his way to the bindery and saw Tallyn looming over a book held in a press, coating the spine with paste. He looked up when he heard Link and offered a small smile. He carefully applied a strip of paper to the spine and burnished it down with a flat tool.

"You brought the book," said Tallyn. "That reminds me, I have something for you." He put down his tool and went over to the far bench and picked up a book and brought it to Link.

"For me?"

"Yes, for your revised draft."

Link took the book in his hands and admired the dark green tooled leather cover and brown spine. He turned it over in his hands and saw an embossed, gilded Triforce symbol on the back cover. The pages were sturdy and cream-colored with a deckle edge and barely visible lines to help keep the script tidy. It was a simple, beautiful book of very high quality.

"You really made this for me?" asked Link.

"Of course I did." Tallyn cast him a meaningful glance and then looked away.

"Thank you. It's beautiful." Link stepped close to him and dared to touch his face, terrified all the while that Tallyn would shrink away from him again. Instead, he closed his eyes and let a little sigh fall from his parted lips. Link leaned in as if to embrace him and kissed him on corner of his lips.

"Would you like some tea?" Tallyn whispered.

"Yes," replied Link, reluctantly parting.

While the kettle was heating, Link asked Tallyn why he had suggested so many changes to the book.

"If you don't make them now, Zelda will," he replied plainly.

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes. She doesn't want posterity to think the Hero of Time was in love with his guide."

"But he was."

"But he can't be. He's supposed to be driven by his love for the princess, or his love for battle and glory, or something along those lines. You need to rewrite it, or I promise you, she will."

The kettle whistled and Tallyn took it from the stove and poured it over loose tea. He handed one to Link and sat down on a stool with his.

"All right. I'll do it," Link conceded. "But this draft, this original version… it's like a diary. I can't just discard it."

Tallyn smiled mysteriously. "Oh, no need to worry about that. I'll see to it that it is not lost."

Link glanced around the room, feeling for a moment as though nothing had ever changed, that they were still flirting and retreating from each other. He noticed a beautiful blue leather book sitting open on Tallyn's bench.

"What are you working on?" he gestured at the book with his chin.

"Hm?" asked Tallyn, seemingly caught off guard, "Oh, just… notes." He eyed the open book anxiously.

Link noticed his sudden discomfort and thought it best to drop the subject. He walked over to the back door and tossed his tea leaves out into the bushes.

"Did you have a message?" asked Tallyn with a smile.

"That I'd better get to work, I have a lot of re-writing ahead of me."

Tallyn seemed sorry to let him go, but nodded and drained the rest of his tea. He swirled the leaves and stared at them blankly. "I suppose that's what mine says too."

Link picked up his books and made his way upstairs, back to the undisturbed reading room by the balcony. He saw the new floor and empty north room, and could still smell the faint odor of smoke. He skipped a few pages and began to transcribe, reembarking on his adventure for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Hours passed and Link continued writing. He watched the sun move across the sky, entertained Ilsia when she came up to see him, and minded his work when Tallyn brought an imposing man who wore the king's crest on a tour through the library's restored wing. He returned to the upstairs reading hall sometime later, alone.

"How's it coming along?" Tallyn asked.

Link gave him his most casual glance. "Slowly, thanks to you."

"You're welcome." He approached and leaned over his shoulder.

"Who was that you brought through?" asked Link, continuing to feign disinterest.

"The head of the castle's library and archives. They're going to fund the replacement of all the books we lost. Isn't that wonderful?" Tallyn touched Link's cheek and ran his fingers gently through his hair, tucking a lock behind his ear.

Link closed his eyes. "You're driving me crazy." He turned around in his chair and faced him.

Tallyn looked back at him and said nothing.

"What is it?" asked Link.

Tallyn sighed. "Listen… Link, I don't know how to explain. Something's not right, with the memories, I mean. Something went wrong; it's too much, and I'm trying to fix it." He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "And it's not your fault," he added.

Link was startled. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"I couldn't even begin to… it's all the things that happened to Sheik, and how he… they're haunting me." He looked at Link helplessly. "I'm sorry if I can't make up my mind of how to act."

Link stood and took Tallyn's hand and led him beyond the wood pillar. "Don't think, then." He kissed him softly.

Tallyn sunk into his arms and kissed him back eagerly, trailing his hands slowly up his shirt.

"Don't you have work to do?" asked Link.

"Hush, I'm my own boss. Come with me." Tallyn led Link through the stacks to a little reading space deep within the west wing.

"What about Ilsia? What if that guy from the castle comes back?"

"I sent Ilsia home, and watched the castle guy get on his horse and leave. The doors are locked. It's only you and me." He pushed him down on the chaise and sat down beside him.

Link felt aroused. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asked gently.

"Yes. Now, today I am," replied Tallyn. He turned Link's face toward him and kissed him.

Link's concerns disappeared as he felt Tallyn's hand run along his hips and inner thigh. He kissed and touched him back, taking off whatever clothes he could he get hands on, and was suddenly shocked when Tallyn gently withdrew his lips from his and kissed downward until he was on his knees, and then unlaced his pants and began easing them down. He looked up at him wickedly.

"Close your eyes."

After the favor, Link wrapped Tallyn in a tight embrace, basking in the warmth and calm that overtook his body.

"How did you know how to do that?" he asked.

"You mean you've never… in all your travels?" Tallyn replied.

"No… but someone's done that to you?"

Tallyn paused and said gently, "Never anyone who's mattered."

Link winced. "And have you ever… done it before?"

"Certainly not," he said, with an air of offense. He adjusted his tone. "That is, there's never been anyone I would even dream of doing that to, before you."

This heartened Link, and he continued pressing him. "What about Sheik? Did he ever have a lover?"

"No. My… his... past was too troubled for love. There was just you." Tallyn's features darkened. "Though," he added with a small smile, "I did kiss Zelda."

Link noticed Tallyn's trouble of distinguishing between himself in the present and Sheik, but he didn't mention it.

"What do you want for dinner?" asked Link, running his fingers through his hair.

"You. Potatoes. Anything," he replied.

Link brought Tallyn back to Impa's house and poured him a glass of wine while he set about cooking. Tallyn walked up and down the bookcase along the wall and eventually curled up with a book on one of Impa's stuffed chairs. Link looked over at him from time to time as he cooked, admiring his slender, contorted figure and long legs. From where he was standing he saw only his messy bangs and down-turned eyes, the rest of his face obscured by the book, and fantasized about cooking for Sheik at Impa's house while wearing his green tunic and mail, and armed to the teeth.

After they ate, Tallyn curled up beside Link and resumed his place in the book he had found. Link picked up a book and followed suit, feeling more content in that moment, with all his earthly needs satisfied, than he had ever felt before.

When he noticed Tallyn had begun to doze, he gently shook him awake and led him upstairs by the hand. Before they undressed for bed, Tallyn caught Link staring at him with a peculiar look on his face.

"What is it?" he asked sleepily.

"Nothing," said Link.

"You're thinking of something right now. Tell me."

"It's just something that's occupying my mind. It would be selfish and indulgent to ask you."

"Ask me anyway," said Tallyn, newly alert.

"I want… I want to know what it would feel like, if I had asked Sheik to kiss me."

Tallyn blinked. "It would never have happened. I know he would never, never in a hundred years have let himself."

"Even if the war was over, and I was never sent away? And we had fulfilled our obligations?"

"Even then, he would never believe you meant it."

"Suppose I convinced him? Begged him?"

"Link," began Tallyn wearily.

"Just kiss me as if you aren't allowed to, but you badly desire it."

Tallyn stared at him for a long moment. "You're right, that is indulgent. All right, fine. I'll see what I can do."

Tallyn closed his eyes for a moment, and then approached Link. He touched his face with only his fingertips, and then softly brushed his lips against Link's before parting them, and then kissed him gently, reverently; pulling away for a second just to exhale, and then returning to kiss him more deeply. He broke the kiss and looked at Link, who was blushing with his eyes still closed.

"Link…" began Tallyn, "I know that you loved Sheik, but he, as you knew him, can never exist. That kiss is from me, not him. I hold his memories, but anything I do with them belongs to me. We are the same, but he is a shadow."

He gazed up at Link. "I hope you aren't too disappointed. I may not have taught you any songs in this life, but I suffered, and loved you secretly, obsessively, just as I did when I was called Sheik. I spoke to you in cool, careful scripts so you wouldn't know how I really felt. I watched you, saw how kind you were to others, and loved you for it in this life too. Link, I've told you before, the landscape may be different, but everything is the same. You are still, and always will be, the most dear to my heart of anyone."

Link was suddenly ashamed for asking him to act out what had never happened in the past, and adored him for his kind understanding.

"Tallyn," he whispered, stepping in close, "I love you."

Tallyn blushed and kissed him again, this time more intensely. They undressed each other and made love slowly and gently. Tallyn opened his eyes and watched Link's face turn euphoric as his climaxed inside him, his mouth ajar and his head tilted slightly back.

He whispered, "I love you, darling," against Link's pounding chest, and laughed at the incoherent barrage of sweet talk with which Link responded.

When they had calmed down again, Tallyn took him in his arms and whispered, "There, now I've fully taken your maidenhead."

Link laughed. "And I, yours."

"What are we to do?" Tallyn asked, kissing him.

"Marry me," said Link, nuzzling against his shoulder.

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"You'll think of something."

"It would make things so much easier if you were a woman," said Tallyn.

"Why would I have to be the woman?"

"Because I've already established myself professionally."

"I suppose you're right."

"Then it's settled. I'll pray to the gods to turn you into a woman."

"I thought you didn't believe in the gods?" said Link.

"Nevertheless, I've got nothing to lose by praying." He laughed out loud. "Imagine how good looking our children would be."

"They'd be gorgeous," sighed Link. "And talented too. It's not fair, is it?"

"No," agreed Tallyn.

"But would you marry me, if we could?"

"Of course I would." He kissed him and turned on to his side.

Link closed his eyes, feeling a heaviness creep over him. "How much time do you think we have?" he asked after a moment.

"Shh," hushed Tallyn, stroking his leg. "Go to sleep."

* * *

Over the course of the week, Link continued to revise his manuscript in the library. His diligence was occasionally interrupted by a kiss, a profane note, or a wandering touch from his lover that promised later gratification. Link noticed that Tallyn often worked late, but supposed that the fire had caused him considerable setbacks.

They went out on the week-end for ale where they practiced politely flirting with girls and feigning disinterest with one another around friends. In private, they soon filled in all the gaps they had about each other's lives in the present, and much of their coincidental past as the Hero and Guide.

Late in the morning on the following week-end, they were awoken by a knock at Tallyn's door. Link pulled the covers over his head and urged him to ignore it, but Tallyn sprang out of bed and quickly dressed to see who it was. He returned after several minutes and sat down on the bed with a troubled look on his face.

"Who was it?" asked Link, unbuttoning Tallyn's shirt.

He held his hand to stop him. "It was… Laina." He made a face.

Link waited for him to go on.

"She wanted to walk down to the lake and see the leaves turning with me today. I told her I was not well, and she took off her coat and insisted on staying here to tend to me. That wouldn't do, so I told her I'd meet her in an hour or so."

Link nodded slowly. "I see."

"You aren't upset with me, are you? I couldn't think of how to get out of it."

"Of course I'm not upset. It's probably good for you to go, to keep up appearances," replied Link. He felt his stomach twist into a knot, and mentally began preparing for the end of their relationship, taking stock of the vulnerable look in Tallyn's eyes and his adorably disheveled, post-coital appearance.

They both dressed and Link soon left, parting with a deep, if not desperate, kiss.

By the third week, Link found that Tallyn was becoming somewhat detached and distracted. He noticed his clenched jaw and knitted brow, and began to worry when Tallyn blanched in fear at the idea of sex. When he lay beside him and stroked his arm, he felt him wince under his touch as if he had hurt him.

"Darling," cooed Link in a soft voice.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Tallyn, burrowing into his shoulder.

Link woke up some mornings and found himself alone, or found Tallyn sleeping on the settee or gazing out the window at the rooftops.

He became so concerned that he tried to enlist the help of Ilsia, who had her hands full with problems of her own.

"Link, my father is dying. The doctor just left, and told me to make him comfortable. I'm sorry, but I can't help you." She breathed a weary sigh. "But there is one thing you should know. He was like this after he came back from Lake Hylia, and he only got better when he started taking medicine. Or seeing you. Or both." She described the shadowy apothecary where Tallyn had gone several weeks ago, and turned to go back into the house.

"I'm so sorry," said Link. "Is there anything I can do for your father, or for you?"

Ilsia smiled. "Thank you, Link. But I'm sure there is nothing you could do."

Link immediately departed for the old apothecary and rapped loudly on the door. A silent, dark haired young girl answered it, and wordlessly led him through the hall beyond a pair of dusty mauve curtains. A shrouded old woman sat at a glass counter stocked with all manner of jars and sacks filled with curious substances. The shop was dark, illuminated by a few tall candles, and it reeked of resinous incense.

"So?" asked the old woman. "Is it a broken heart? A loved one in trouble?"

"I need to pick up medicine for my… friend. He visited you a few weeks ago to seek relief from his worries."

"Worries? I don't make medicine for worries, or for friends. You have the wrong apothecary."

"I know I do not," said Link, "Please, sell me more of what you gave him."

"Curious that he should send his friend. In all my years, I have never been begged for a potion for a… friend." She looked up at Link with a big, green eye.

Link said nothing. The old woman cackled. "So you are his lover. My dear boy, many young people come to me, and I take down no names. You will have to describe him."

Despite his serious expression, Link blushed. "H-he is tall, but not as tall as me, with slightly darker skin and fairer hair than mine. His eyes are…" Link paused, "…distinct. They are dark amber-colored eyes. He dresses well, and-"

"Stop there; that is all I need. How truly rare: your lover is the last of the Sheikahs. But you have misdiagnosed him, poor soul. He has come to me not for relief from worries, but for relief from his memories." She smiled.

Link's jaw dropped. "Why would he do that?"

"Because they are more horrible than he can bear."

Link looked down at the floor, calculating. "What can I do for him?" he asked.

"Poor boy. There is nothing you can do. If he takes any more of that potion than what I gave him, it will obliterate his mind. It could kill him. You must appeal to some higher magic to help him, or to the gods."

Link slammed his fist down on the counter. "Damnit! There must be something he can take that can soothe his mind."

The old woman inclined her head to the side. "I do have something, which will be better than nothing. It is a draught that will put him into a dreamless sleep each night. That is the only relief I can prescribe."

"All right, I'll take it."

"Is there nothing else I can do for you?" She placed the thin vial on the counter.

Link thought for a moment. "Another friend's father is dying. Do you have anything that can help ease his pain?"

"Of course," said the old woman. She produced a small, round glass vial filled with a lavender-colored liquid. "Here you are, young hero."

Link was jarred by her words, but paid the hefty bill and returned to Ilsia's house. He gave her the instructions and vial and kissed her on the cheek.

"You smell like incense," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Were you able to get more medicine for Tallyn?"

"Not really," admitted Link. "But I'll see what I can do."

Ilsia gazed up at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Link."

Link shivered in the cool air and went to see if he could find Tallyn in the bindery. When he arrived, he found that it was already closed for the day. He turned and walked down the avenue to his house and let himself in. The lamps were lit but he did not find him downstairs.

"Tal? Are you home?" he called.

Link went up the stairs and opened the bedroom door cautiously, and was shocked by what he found. He saw Tallyn sleeping in bed, tended to by Laina, who sat on a stool beside him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"The same as you, checking on Tallyn," Link said as casually as he could. "Is he all right?"

"He's sleeping now," she said tenuously.

"Good," he said. After a long, uncomfortable pause, he added, "We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Link."

"I know who you are. I am Laina."

Link raised an eyebrow. "Then I know who you are, too." Link approached and sat down on the bed. He took out the vial and smiled when Tallyn peeked at him from under his closed eyelids. "I brought something to help him sleep, and to take away his nightmares."

He gently urged his lower jaw open and placed a drop of the potion in his mouth. Tallyn obediently swallowed, and silently shifted so that his leg touched against Link's. He badly wanted to touch or kiss him, but instead he placed his hand on his arm in a chummy way and stood up.

"He seems to be in very good hands. Will you continue to give this to him when he goes to sleep?" said Link, heading toward the door.

"Wait," said Laina, following him to the door. She glanced back at Tallyn. "What do you mean, nightmares?" When Link put a finger to his lips and descended the stairs, she followed him down and put the kettle to boil.

"Won't you stay and talk with me a while? I want to know whatever you know about his condition," she said.

Link hesitated. "I could stay for a cup of tea." He did his best to sound friendly.

"Tell me about the nightmares."

Link shrugged. "When we were out at the… the pub the other night, he mentioned he was having nightmares, and that they weren't going away during the day." He disliked lying, but knew there was no way he could even begin to tell her the truth.

"They weren't going away?"

"That's what he said. Did he mention anything like that when you found him?"

"Well, I came to see him today at the library, and found him in a sort of daze at his bench. He looked feverish, so I walked him back to his house and put him to bed." She looked at Link with her big, brown eyes.

"How did you become friends?" she asked.

"I suppose the way anyone becomes friends."

"Tallyn is different than most people, though."

Link looked at her curiously. "I guess that's true. We became friends during the time when I was researching at the library. I constantly burdened him with questions and book requests, and eventually we found that we had a lot of interests in common."

Laina stood and poured them each some tea. "What were you researching?"

"Legends."

"Why?"

"I've been asked to write a book." Link winced as he burned his lip on the tea.

"By whom?"

"A very noble patron, but I can't tell you who."

"Are you a writer?"

"Not really, no." He was quickly becoming wearied by her barrage of questions.

"What do you do, then?"

"Before this assignment, I was a... I've had many apprenticeships. How do you know Tallyn?" he asked abruptly, changing the flow of the conversation.

"I've known him since I was a girl. Our parents were friends."

"Are you good friends with him?"

"I'm afraid… we haven't spoken much over the years."

"But you must care for him, or you wouldn't be here?" Link asked carefully.

Laina looked conflicted. "Yes, I do. But, to tell you the truth, I don't think he likes me at all."

"I doubt that's true," said Link, glancing away.

"Really? Does he ever speak of me, Link?" Her eyes were pleading, and a little tendril of hair had slipped out from its pin and fell across her face. In that moment, even Link was taken by her beauty.

"He does," said Link. "Yes."

She looked away, clearly pleased. Link tried to suck down his tea as quickly as possible without scorching himself.

"When you're done with your research, do you think you'll stay on in the village?"

He looked at her and felt his heart break. "I wanted to, at first, but… I'm not sure that I will." He finished his tea and stood. "Well, I'm very glad to know that he's being looked after. Do give him my best when he wakes up." Link thanked her for the tea and left.


	14. Chapter 14

LINK

* * *

The days passed, and Link saw that Tallyn was more alert during the day, but still appeared troubled. He had not slept with him since he fell ill, and he could rarely get more than a few words out of him when he saw him at the library.

Link wrote as quickly and neatly as he could, desperate to be done with his project.

One morning, very early, Link was awoken by a knock at the door. He hastily threw on some clothes and answered it, and was shocked to see Tallyn, standing in the misty morning rain looking exhausted.

"Link, I'm sorry to wake you," he said.

"You know you could have just let yourself in," he replied in a cranky voice, hurt by Tallyn's reserved manner.

"Listen," he said, stepping inside, "Ilsia's father died last night. I'm adopting her as my sister this morning, and I need a witness. Will you do it?"

Link was shocked. "Poor Ilsia!" After a moment, he added, "Are you sure I'm the right person for the job? Won't they prefer someone you've known longer?"

"I've never known anyone as long as I've known you," Tallyn said in a shaky voice. He clenched his eyes shut. "Damnit, Link. I don't know how much longer I can endure this."

"Endure what?" Link asked gently.

Tallyn looked up at him. "Every day, I wake up and watch myself die by my own hands. I see my childhood, I see myself raped, and I see my loved ones murdered before me. I watch myself—Sheik—struggle to regain sanity, only to lose it once more when you cease to exist in my world."

"Tal," said Link, trying to hide his shock. Tallyn had never alluded to the content of his nightmares before then. Link gently grasped his shoulders and leaned his head against his. "Then, you're right," said Link. "Nothing changes, it only repeats. And I'm killing you again."

"No," said Tallyn, taking Link's face in his hands. "You never killed me. I did it to myself. It was what the gods wanted."

"You don't believe in the gods," whispered Link, kissing the corner of his lips.

Tallyn forced a small smile. "So will you do it?"

* * *

It took several days for the library to resume something akin to normalcy after the funeral, and Link was glad to distract and be distracted by Ilsia again.

"I suppose this means you're my brother-in-law now," she teased.

Link nearly spat out his drink. "Did you really just say that?"

"Want me to say it louder?" said Ilsia.

"You would be in such trouble right now if you weren't still in mourning."

"Really? Maybe I'll only wear black from now on."

During the day, he helped Ilsia go through the house and pack up what she wanted to take to Tallyn's. Link pulled out a mirrory pictograph from a chest and looked at it for a long moment.

"Is this your mother?" he asked.

Ilsia took the photo from his hand and looked at it fondly. "Yes," she said. "I thought this had been lost."

"She's beautiful," he remarked. "You look a lot like her."

Ilsia cast him a vulnerable look, and then looked away.

He carried the box with her clothes, sheets, and her few possessions to Tallyn's house, and helped her move in to Tallyn's old bedroom.

"It's funny, to have a house and an income of my own. It seems like I won't have to marry after all."

Link smiled, but read the pain in her words clearly. He went back downstairs to begin carrying up her enormous book collection.

* * *

He finished the re-write of his book at last on the afternoon of the fall equinox, and approached Tallyn in the bindery to tell him. He put his well-worn original draft down on the bench beside him.

"It's finished," he said.

Tallyn set down his tools and stared at the book he had been working on. "Congratulations," he said. He glanced up at Link with a forced smile.

"Tal…" said Link, "I sent a note to Zelda to let her know. I'm not sure what will happen next."

Tallyn nodded.

Link fought back the emotion that threatened to rise up from his chest. "It's the Harvest," he said. "Will you come out tonight?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes," replied Link.

"Then, yes. I'll come."

Link went back upstairs and flipped through a book while he waited for evening to come, and noticed from the balcony that Laina stopped in to see Tallyn. He saw the outline of Tallyn shift his weight uncomfortably, fidgeting as he spoke with her. She took her leave, waving and calling sweet words back to him, while Tallyn stood rigidly. Eventually, Link saw the lamps in the bindery go out, and he waited for Tallyn to make his rounds.

Link looked up from the novel he picked up when Tallyn came.

"Hey," he said.

Tallyn sat down beside him and gently stroked his thigh. "Hey," he replied, and then leaned in and kissed him.

Link dropped his book and returned his kiss, feeling equal parts shocked and starved for his affection.

"Are you ready to go?" asked Tallyn.

"Must we?" replied Link, his eyes still closed.

Tallyn stood and pulled Link to his feet, and together they put out the rest of the lamps. When the last one went dark, he wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again.

"Are you all right?" asked Link dreamily when they parted.

"I will be," replied Tallyn.

They left the library and fell in the crowds who were making their way to the fields beyond the village. In the waning sunlight, they saw hay mazes, booths filled with towers of pumpkins and apples, festive tables with pies, a roasting pig, vendors selling cauldrons filled with spiced wine and ale, and all manner of children and adults milling about wearing masks made of leaves. A little boy ran by, and Tallyn caught him by the shoulder.

"Where did you buy that mask?" he asked.

The boy pointed to a booth down the lane and ran off. Tallyn looked at Link and smiled and took his hand.

After they put on their disguises, Tallyn with a handsome leaf mask and Link with a crown of leaves, they drank as much spiced wine as they could tolerate and wandered their way through the crowd. Though they were cloaked and masked, Ilsia recognized them right away and left her friends to say hello.

"How late can I stay out, Tal?" she asked.

Tallyn put a finger to his lips.

"Does that mean as long as I'd like?"

"Another hour or so. Why would you want to stay out late? You're more sensible than that."

"I'm just testing my boundaries," she replied.

Tallyn and Link exchanged a glance as she ran back to her peers. They walked away from the crowd, up a hill that overlooked the farmland and the festival, and sat down under a tree. Tallyn took off his mask and looked out across the festivities, and then looked over at Link. Link thought he looked sad, but also somehow relieved, and wondered what it was that he was thinking about. He didn't dare ask.

They leaned against each other and touched hands when the fireworks exploded across the sky, deafening everyone below with their boom, and rumbling inside every chest. Link felt so overwhelmed that he turned to Tallyn, who was thinking the same thing, and kissed him deeply, feeling the fireworks resonating throughout their bodies and in their mouths. When it was over, they helped each other up and left for home.

* * *

The next morning, Link awoke in Tallyn's arms for the first time in weeks. Having no idea what might happen to them next, Link carefully took inventory, as was his habit, of every part of Tallyn that was touching him, the softness of his skin, the firmness of his grasp, and the beautiful smell of sleep and clean, autumn sheets, and stored it away in a safe place deep in his memory. He kissed his lover awake and was met with grumbling.

"I should go, before Ilsia wakes up."

"Why?" mumbled Tallyn.

"Because…" Link paused. "Won't she think it's… odd… that I'm here?"

"I'd be surprised if she didn't already set a place for you at breakfast. She's not an idiot."

"No," smiled Link. "You made sure of that."

They eventually got up, and sure enough, Ilsia was cooking a big batch of eggs with a stack of three plates beside her. She raised her eyebrows when she saw them come down the stairs.

"Getting bold, are we?" she said, and poured tea for them.

"Morning," said Link, as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Good morning, little sister," said Tallyn with a grin, and he kissed her other cheek.

"Stop kissing me!" She served them eggs and shot daggers at them both. "Don't get used to this," she said, pointing her fork at Tallyn. "This is only because you prevented me from becoming an orphan."

"What are you doing today?" Link asked Tallyn.

"I have some errands to run." He shifted his eyes away.

Link nodded. "I should check to see if I have any post from Zelda."

Ilsia laughed. "Are you expecting that you will?"

Link grimaced and wished he hadn't said it out loud. "Just a figure of speech." He ate the rest of his breakfast quickly.

"I should go."

He stood and Tallyn followed him to the door. Tallyn glanced over his shoulder and saw Ilsia was peering back at them, and he made a motion with his hand for her to turn around.

"Wait," said Tallyn. He looked suddenly flustered. "Um, I mean…" he looked at Link. "You know what I'm meaning to say."

Link's face softened. "I do. I love you too," he whispered.

Tallyn's eyes grew large. "Yes, that," he breathed. "Yes, I love you. Always." He kissed him quietly and sent him off.


	15. Chapter 15

ZELDA

* * *

She remembered when he had first contacted her in this life. By then, he had already remembered everything. Of course, he had written to Impa before, and Impa, oblivious to the Other Time, had informed the princess that there was another Sheikah in Hyrule.

But when he finally contacted Zelda herself, he had sent a humble message to her from the castle library while he was visiting with the head of the archives, and she immediately responded with a private audience.

"What did you wish to speak to me about?" she asked coolly, her back turned to hide her blush.

Tallyn had walked in and halted a long moment to look at Impa, who looked back at him with plain interest.

"_Amirha_," he said, at which both Impa's and Zelda's eyes snapped up.

"He speaks?!" exclaimed Impa.

"Only what you taught me." He lifted his eyes to Zelda, whose face had fallen.

"Oh gods… please tell me you haven't… that you don't…"

As she looked at him, she remembered the wild, scarred Tallyn, and the quiet, witty Sheik. She remembered the things he used to make with his hands—braided and knotted things, sewn things, mosaics of leaves and sticks stitched up into a cape for her. She looked down and saw his same lovely, slender hands that had taught her how to sew, and which she taught how to play music.

"I'm sorry," said Tallyn, "but I have. I am here as your humble servant to beg a favor of you." He dropped to one knee. "Please, if you can, help me to forget."

Zelda, trembling, dropped down on her knees and clasped his hands. "Don't you dare beg. Anything you want is yours. Oh, my dear."

He helped her to her feet and she threw her arms around him. "Oh Tallyn… Oh Sheik." He felt rigid in her arms.

She thought about the first words he spoke to her several weeks after Impa brought him, shortly after he began training to fight. He had whispered, 'thank you,' and she remembered his trembling hands, and how his eyes were beginning to lose their wildness.

"_Amirha_," he said again, "my princess." His voice sounded tired and strained.

"Link will pay dearly for this."

"It is not his fault, it's mine. I asked him repeatedly to see the book."

"He should never have shown you. What a terrible mistake I made, bringing him here."

"It was the will of the gods. But if there is anything we can do to prevent time from repeating… for I fear I am going mad again… please, let us do it."

Zelda looked at him in horror. "You don't mean…"

"It's crossed my mind."

Zelda anxiously scanned his fine features; his tumbling locks and somber lips and radiant tiger eyes. He was all the more beautiful in his sorrow.

She began to pace. "To forget…Memories, like matter, cannot be obliterated. If they are to be removed from your mind, they must first be placed somewhere else." She looked up at him. "If you write down everything you wish to forget in a book, I can make it so you forget them."

"Will any book do?"

"Yes."

"And that's all I need to do?"

"It is." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Do you really remember… everything?"

He looked away and nodded.

She drew nearer. "Do you remember what you gave me when I turned seventeen?"

"Blue mountain poppies."

"And…?"

Tallyn looked at the ground and then back at her. He timidly brought his lips to hers and deposited a chaste kiss. Somewhere behind them, Impa cleared her throat loudly.

"Oh Sheik…" she sighed.

"Goodbye, Zelda," he said.

"Please call on me when you've finished."

"I'll work as quickly as I can."

Tallyn left and Zelda's smile faded. She sat down and thought deeply about Tallyn for several minutes. She thought of Link, and considered what sort of punishment would be equal to his crime.

Weeks later, Zelda received a letter from Link informing her that the book was finished. She wrote back to him at once requesting that he join her for a private dinner the following evening, and she wrote a separate letter to Tallyn, asking him to come early so that they might discuss his memory.

When she had finished, she calmly stood and took a dusty old book from a locked drawer in her desk and pulled a dark cloak around herself. She descended down to the cool castle storerooms and carefully selected the herbs and powders that she would need.


	16. Chapter 16

LINK

* * *

Link turned the letter over in his hands and folded it back up slowly. Zelda had requested his presence that very evening to receive the book into the castle's collection, which didn't leave him much time to brood over the matter. He brushed and saddled Epona, and then quickly washed and dressed in his finest clothes. In a moment of superstition and sentimentality, he pulled out his favorite of Tallyn's letters and stowed it away in a hidden pocket within his cloak. He looked at his reflection in the looking glass and thought he looked very dashing: Link the Writer, off to deliver his first manuscript.

He arrived at the castle with some time to spare, and so he passed the time in a drawing room, where he patiently scanned the spines of old books on the shelves, and then turned to his own, admiring its beautiful binding and his own careful script. He made up his mind that he would tell Zelda about Tallyn, and ask for her help.

At last, one of the king's men came for him and brought him to a small dining room where the princess was already seated with one other person. As he came nearer, Link was alarmed to see that it was Tallyn, and that he was avoiding his gaze. Link kissed Zelda's hand, his eyes never moving from Tallyn. He looked to her for an explanation.

"I'm so glad you've come," said Zelda. "Thank you for all your hard work, Link." She smiled at him.

"I was happy to do it." He placed the book on the table and sat down beside her and across from Tallyn. Tallyn still avoided his eyes. He gave the room a cursory scan, and as he looked over the table, he noticed a familiar bound book, blue and lovely, placed between Tallyn and the princess. It was at that moment that Tallyn finally met his gaze, and Link knew something was not right. He drank deeply to cover his unease.

The first course came out and Zelda entertained them with figures relating to Hyrule's rich economy, new alliances with neighboring and far off lands, and talk of the successful harvest the villages had brought in. They made several toasts, drinking to the king's health, to peace, to manuscripts.

"Princess," interrupted Link. "Could you tell me what will happen next? What are your plans for the book? Am I free to leave now that it's finished?"

Zelda looked at Tallyn, who shot Link a wounded look.

"I know there's more to this," said Link, "I'm sorry that I did just what you asked me not to do, and I ruined Tallyn's peace. But we can speak freely; he knows all that I know. Why the books? Why has Tallyn brought you one as well?"

Zelda took a long drink from her glass and replaced it slowly on the table. "Your book will be given a number and placed on a shelf. As for remuneration, you will find that you are free to do what you wish for the rest of your days, and you shall never want for money."

Link blinked. "That is very… generous. I don't know how I could ever thank you. But, if you would indulge my curiosity…"

"I'm afraid I cannot," said Zelda gently. "I should also mention that I had all the assets from your knighthood made into coin, and I've sent it all away to your son."

Link blinked his eyes again and stared up at Zelda. "I'm sorry, to my…? I don't have a son."

She looked down. "I'm rather surprised to hear you say that. It only takes once, you know." She pursed her lips and smiled at Tallyn.

Link's mouth fell ajar. "How do you—why did you never tell me?" he exclaimed, standing up. "You must tell me how you know this, and where I can find him. Have your people been watching me?!"

"You can think of it more like they were watching the Triforce of Courage. I assure you he is safe, and well cared for. Now please, sit down."

Link sat back down, overwhelmed and frightened. He felt Tallyn slide his foot on top of his under the table, and looked up to see him smiling a coy, proud grin.

"Tallyn, darling," he whispered, at which point Zelda screeched her cutlery across her plate; "You haven't said a word. Why are you here? Why didn't you tell me you'd be coming?"

He looked down at his plate. "Because I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Has something changed? Is everything all right?"

"Link, I…" he looked over at Zelda and then back at Link. "I wanted us to end on a good note, with everything perfect." He watched Link's eyes grow heavy from over his wine glass and gasped. "Oh gods. Don't drink any more, Link," he said quietly.

"Would you accuse me of poisoning you, two of Hyrule's heroes, under my own roof?" Zelda interjected.

Link put down his glass, feeling drowsy.

"Not poisoning," said Tallyn, "but—"

"I've heard quite enough," said Zelda's voice, reverberating from a far away place. "This is what you wanted, and it's what he deserves."

"I'm so sorry Link," said Tallyn.

Link's eyes scanned the scene in slow motion. He saw Tallyn drain the rest of his wine and fall forward on the table, his hand extended. He blinked again and saw only a beautiful young man, fallen into his roasted beets and potatoes, smiling up at him from the most exquisitely dressed table he'd ever seen. Then there was a woman's voice, and then everything went dark.


	17. EPILOGUE: Part 1

EPILOGUE: Part 1

* * *

Seven years had passed since Link's disappearance and Tallyn's amnesia. Though Link was never seen again, Tallyn quietly rebuilt his life with the help of Ilsia and Laina. His hands still retained their craft despite his memory loss, and he had resumed work shortly after the incident.

Laina had visited him almost every day and worked to convince him that they had been in love before his fall. After finding a stash of love letters buried deep in his desk drawer, Tallyn was inclined to believe her, for the letters were all signed with a hasty 'L'. He did his best to return her love, and they married within the year and had a little daughter by the next.

Ilsia and Laina never got on well, mainly due to the exaggerations and lies of omissions that Laina had conveyed to Tallyn. Ilsia continued to live in Tallyn' house as his dependant until she could take no more of Laina's cold manner and constant encouragement to marry, and moved back into her father's empty house at age sixteen. She continued working with Tallyn during the day, visited weekly for supper, and enjoyed doting on her young niece.

Ilsia grew to be a skilled bookbinder, though she was excluded from the crafts guilds because of her gender. She learned to laugh and be charming in public, and as a result she had many friends and suitors. But she showed her true, curious nature to Tallyn, and he treated her as an equal, often sharing his thoughts and an after-work flask with her.

She thought occasionally about Link, wondering whether he was making a life for himself somewhere in the world, or if he had died long ago. She had never loved anyone quite as much as she had loved him, and she treasured his memory by wearing her ruby pendant every day. She mindlessly rolled it between her fingers, sipping whisky from a teacup while listening to Tallyn's synopsis of the previous night's guild meeting.

"I should add that Martin and Eiden both approached me separately to ask after you," said Tallyn.

"Ugh," replied Ilsia. "They're just like all the rest."

"They can't all be as bad as you say—you ought to give one a chance."

"I've had my fill of dull men and chances. Besides, you're to blame; how will I ever find a man who's as radical as you, who won't ask me to give up my work?"

Tallyn shrugged. "I plead ignorance, as always, to your mysterious upbringing, but surely there's some good fellow out there to whom you're being unfair."

Ilsia narrowed her eyes. "You sound like your wife."

Tallyn took a long drink. "Will you come to supper tonight?"

"No," said Ilsia, draining her glass. "Not tonight, thank you."

Ilsia came home to her empty little house and lit a few lamps and cooked a small supper. She pulled the hairpins from her hair and let it fall down to her shoulders, crimped and fluffy, and went up to her bedroom to smooth it down with a comb. She unlaced her blue cotton dress and shrugged it off, and then loosened and wriggled free of her corset. She pulled a dressing gown over her silk slip and went back downstairs to her favorite chair by the window, where she lit her pipe and opened a book.

She considered what Tallyn had said to her that day, and wondered if the note of regret in his tone had to do with an opportunity that he felt he had missed, having relied so heavily on others, namely Laina, after his memory loss. She had been pleased with how Tallyn had reestablished himself over the years, and imagined things would have turned out much the same if the incident had never happened at all. Though she told him as much as possible about his life, he remained ignorant to those crucial few months when he had known Link. He was generally in good spirits and never complained about his lot in life, but Ilsia sometimes caught him wearing a look of devastation on his face, looking around him like a person who had held something in his hand one moment, only to have it disappear in the next. She knew what he was missing, and the guilt of knowing weighed on her heavily.

* * *

One afternoon, Ilsia found a misshelved book in the basement of the library. It was a shoddy-looking ledger that, because it was paper-based, should never have been placed in an environment suitable for oversized inorganic materials. She flipped through it as she ascended the stairs and saw that it was not a ledger at all, but a marked-up manuscript. Her eyes widened when she read Link's name and skimmed past words like Hero, temple, and Triforce. She turned the pages and saw loose sketches of floor plans and weapons and grotesque monsters and concluded that this must be the draft of Link's research that had caused Tallyn to fall ill all those years ago. She came back to the bindery with the book and quietly slipped it into her bag.

When she got home, Ilsia read the book hungrily. She confirmed that the red was certainly Tallyn's handwriting, and the written text throughout had an upright rigidity and occasional smears that were characteristic of a left hand. She read it over the course of two days and felt weary and heartbroken when she finished, finally realizing why Link and Tallyn had been so interested in time and memory. Though wonderfully enchanting, Link described the events in his story as memories, not as dreams or fictions. He combined well-known elements from other Hero legends with completely new ones—but for what reason? Why had Link written Tallyn (whom she identified by his unusual eye color) into the story as a Sheikah? Equally unsettling were Tallyn's red comments: he corrected some of Sheik's words and struck out emotional passages, labeling them as "too suggestive." Ilsia could easily see how the text, as it was before Tallyn's comments, could be interpreted as a suppressed romance between two men. Had they both believed these things to have happened? What was it about the story that had caused Tallyn to have a mental breakdown?

She would never find answers to her questions, nor would she know about the nightmarish memories that had flooded Tallyn's mind just prior to his amnesia, as the book that contained them now was hidden deep within the castle.

* * *

Tallyn sat in the pub and minded his drink quietly as the barmaid took away his plate. He was dining alone that night, since Laina had taken their daughter Silvia across town to visit her mother, and Ilsia had other plans. He was glad to have some time to himself and hoped he might run into friends at the pub.

The person beside him, who had been deep in conversation with a stranger, stood up and left. Tallyn raised his eyes from his glass and studied the stranger for a moment. He looked about his own age, with a handsome face, calm eyes, and angular cheekbones. He was fair, but with a bronze-toned skin, suggesting he had traveled from a warmer climate. His posture was a little lazy, which made his broad shoulders appear even wider as he hunched over his ale. He caught Tallyn's eye and offered a small smile.

"Are you here to visit, or are you just passing through?" Tallyn asked.

"Could be either," the stranger replied in unaccented Hylian. "I'm a journeyman come up from the Lethes valley, a ways south from here."

"From Lethes?" Tallyn said, "I hear there's a lot of political unrest there right now."

"That's why I left. My forge was destroyed when fighting broke out some weeks ago. So, here I am, starting over again, in a sense."

"My word…" said Tallyn, staring at him with great interest. "You're very intrepid to travel this far."

Someone asked if the seat between them was free, so Tallyn, without thinking twice, offered his own seat and sat down closer to the stranger.

"I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Tallyn; I'm the bookbinder in town."

"My name is Aeon. It's nice to meet you." He held out his hand and Tallyn grasped it firmly.

"Aeon," he repeated, "your Hylian is perfect. Where are you originally from?"

He shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. I think I may be from Hyrule, though."

"You mean, you don't know?"

"No. I woke up in a monastery in Lethes some years ago without any memories of my past or who I was." He glanced up at Tallyn, who was gazing at him with his mouth ajar. "I know, it's a little strange, isn't it?"

"How extraordinarily rare! I've never met someone else who had amnesia. I too lost my memory—I'd say about seven years ago."

"Really?" Aeon turned and faced him, studying him more closely. "That is very peculiar. That's right when I did too. I wonder if there was some sickness going around? I might be able to link myself to this town, or somewhere else in Hyrule."

"I'm told I was ill before it happened. Maybe so? I am certainly useless to you in that area, but I can introduce you around to people who may have known you," he talked excitedly and looked at the stranger with bright eyes. "Have you found out much about your past? How odd that you awoke in a foreign land."

"It will always be a mystery to me. The monks were all silent, except one who taught me to speak Lethesian and helped me to relearn my strengths. I learned that I can shoot a bow accurately, work leather, and forge metals. I have deep scars, so I must have been in battle somewhere. The only other thing I know…" he smiled sadly, "…is that my name started with an 'L' and I had a very eloquent lover."

Tallyn smiled gently at him. "How mysterious. I count myself very lucky. I awoke surrounded by loved ones who helped me to rebuild who I once was. I can not imagine starting completely over, with no name." He chewed on his lip for a moment. "How did you get the name Aeon? Why didn't you choose a name that began with an 'L'?"

Aeon shrugged. "The monks gave me that name. I saw no reason to object to it."

A group came and swarmed the bar around them, and they struggled to catch each other's words. Tallyn stood and motioned for him to follow him to a far table, where they ordered another round.

"Have you ever remembered anything from the past?" Aeon asked.

"Not really. Sometimes I have dreams that I don't understand, or feel a certain way about a person who I've never seen, but knew in the past… it's funny how deep instincts and feelings run. Do you know what I mean?"

Aeon looked into his eyes and let his gaze linger for a long moment. "Yes. I know exactly what you mean."

Tallyn felt his pulse quicken and his cheeks color slightly, and he felt suddenly embarrassed. "Tell me about your travels, and what things were like in Lethes." He leaned his chin on his hand as he sipped his ale.

Aeon spoke at length about the path he took to Hyrule, and told stories about the Lethesians and his work and the uprising against the throne. Tallyn listened with rapt attention, and then told Aeon his own story about his work, his wife Laina, his six-year-old daughter, and his adopted sister. He invited him to come see the library and promised to introduce him to the old smith in town, who he was sure needed the help.

They talked all night and were eventually asked to leave so the pub could close. They wished each other goodnight and made plans to see each other again the following afternoon.

* * *

"I met the most wonderful, interesting person yesterday," Tallyn told Ilsia, as he passed a needle through a signature. "He's a smith from Lethes. I told him to come by today."

"I hope not for my sake," she replied curtly.

"No, but… now that you mention it, he seemed like a fine fellow, maybe even the sort I wouldn't mind for a brother-in-law." He smiled when he saw Ilsia's scowl. "Trust me on this one."

Ilsia scooped up the morning's pile of newly bound or repaired volumes, and sauntered out of the bindery and into the stacks. After a moment, he heard the sound of books dropping loudly onto the wood floor. He put down his needle, surprised to think that Ilsia should be so clumsy, and went to see whether she needed any help.

"Ah," he said when he reached the scene, "You've met Aeon." He looked on at the two of them, Aeon crouched down picking up the books, while Ilsia clutched a book to her chest in shock.

"Hullo Tallyn," said Aeon, looking up at him with a smile. "I'm afraid I badly startled this young woman. I'm so sorry," he said, turning to Ilsia.

Tallyn took the books from his arms and Aeon helped Ilsia to her feet. He liked what he saw—Aeon seemed a perfect gentleman. After a shave and a fresh set of clothes, Aeon looked even more handsome than the night before.

"Th-that's all right. You don't re—what did you say your name was?" she said.

"Aeon from Lethes. You must be Ilsia. Tallyn told me about you yesterday. It's nice to meet you." He replied.

She looked at him with a conflicted expression. "Nice to meet you too."

"Well, let me show you around! Ilsia, would you please put some tea on for all of us? I'll help you reshelve these later."

Tallyn led Aeon away and conducted him through the different sections, brought him upstairs to the special interest stacks and reading spaces, and showed him the relatively new space in the north wing that had caught fire just before his amnesia. They returned to the bindery and Tallyn showed him the workspace and some projects he was working on. By then the tea was ready, which Ilsia passed to them with shaky hands.

"What about you?" Aeon asked Ilsia.

"What about me?" she repeated.

"Will you show me what you're working on?"

Her tense expression softened. "Of course."

She brought him to the other side of the studio and walked him past a new leather binding, and a meticulous project that involved stabilizing hundreds of torn pages in a volume. Aeon listened intently and complimented her on her beautiful work.

"I sometimes work with bookbinders, when they need metal threads and hinges for large books. I've always enjoyed seeing their work; it seems so practical and thoughtful."

Ilsia smiled and looked away.

They sat back down at one of the cleared benches and Tallyn repeated to Ilsia Aeon's long journey to Hyrule, and how he was going to introduce him to the smith that day. He noticed that Ilsia still appeared anxious, but also could not take her eyes off of Aeon. After their tea they said goodbye and Tallyn left to bring Aeon to meet the blacksmith. Once she was sure they were gone, Ilsia collapsed against the wall and cried shocked, confused tears for just a moment, and then pulled herself together and decided how to handle the situation.

Ilsia thought about the book she had recently found, and how it had somehow torn them apart long ago. The less they knew about each other, the safer they were from destroying each other again with their fascination of memory and the past. She would not tell them anything about their past together if she could help it.

Over the weeks, and then months, Ilsia watched helplessly as Tallyn became close to him again. She saw their behavior repeat, but on a different level. Aeon did not spend as much time at the library as when he called himself Link, since he had been hired immediately by the old blacksmith, but when they were together, they were inseparable. They spent countless hours with one another in the evenings and on week-ends, but they maintained a polite, formal relationship in public. At the same time, Aeon was devoting a significant amount of time to getting to know Ilsia.

She went with him for walks around the village in the late summer, and it gradually became easier to forget that he was someone else once. She separated Aeon from Link and let herself enjoy his kind, unselfish company. He was beginning to learn whitesmithing on the side and made her a silver bracelet. Tallyn teased her for finally allowing someone to dote on her, which startled her, as she had not even considered the notion that Aeon could love her. Though she would do anything for Tallyn, she begged the gods that he would not fall in love with Link again, and that this time, maybe, she might have a chance.

* * *

On the night of the Harvest Festival, Aeon saw a single lamp burning in the library from outside, so he entered through the back door of the bindery where he knew Tallyn was working late.

"Hey, Tal. Aren't you coming out? Your women were looking for you." Aeon approached him at his bench. "You're going to go blind working like this." He ran his fingers through Tallyn's hair and let them touch against his face.

Tallyn closed his eyes and took Aeon's hand in his own. It was new and strange; they had been doing this now for a few weeks. It had all started with an accidental grazing of hands, which turned into a startled, prolonged caress. He tried to rationalize these small touches as friendly, or brotherly, or foreign Lethesian gestures, but struggled when his imagination made them into something much more.

They had told each other everything that their comparatively uncluttered minds held, all their triumphs and doubts and regrets. All the rest they said with their eyes.

The first time Tallyn had taken Aeon on a walk through town, they surprised each other by the number of times they experienced déjà vu. When they had lingered on the cliff overlooking town, Tallyn felt an insatiable urge to kiss him. As he closed his eyes and tried to fight off the feeling, he heard Aeon speak.

"I know I was here with you before," he said quietly. "We stood right here and we… cared about each other deeply."

Tallyn opened his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "So you feel it too."

"It's more than that. I _know_ it. You're so very familiar to me, Tallyn. I feel as though I've come home."

Tallyn took Aeon's hand in his and studied his Triforce mark. He said nothing in reply and looked out across the village, his eyes eventually coming to rest on his own house.

* * *

Tallyn brought the dimensions and sketches to Aeon for the hinges he needed for a large binding. Aeon looked them over, nodding, and thought he could probably have them done in a few days. Tallyn hesitated.

"There's something else, too. I have a favor I want to ask you—it's nothing really important, but it's something that's been on my mind."

"Anything," replied Aeon.

"Ever since you said…" he shifted awkwardly. "If I read something to you, do you think you could write it down?"

Aeon blinked. "I'd be happy to copy something for you, if that's easier."

"No," said Tallyn. "That won't do. I don't want you to… see the handwriting." He looked at Aeon and then shifted his eyes away.

Aeon's mouth fell open and his cheeks turned red. "Are you asking me what I think you're asking?"

"I guess I am," he replied, rubbing his forehead and blushing. "It won't take long, but I can come back another time if that's better."

"Gods, Tallyn."

"I need to know, Aeon."

Aeon put the 'Back in Five Minutes' sign in the door and led Tallyn to the little office. He closed the door behind them. Tallyn pulled out a folded letter with a broken wax seal, a blank sheet of paper, and a quill.

"Ready?" asked Tallyn.

Aeon nodded.

Tallyn began to read: 

_My Dearest T.,_

_It has been only days since we last met, but I am going mad. Already I am sick and weary without you. When you kissed me at the lake, you touched my very soul, and I felt home at last. My darling, I love you so much. I should have told you right then, or that night, or before I let you leave._

_If we never speak again, know that my love for you is ancient and eternal, that is, I have loved you over a thousand lifetimes and will love you for a thousand more. _

_Ever yours,_

_L._

Aeon wrote down what Tallyn read to him, blushing as he heard such secret, intimate words spoken out loud. He tried to think of something clever or joking to say to play down the power of those words, but he was left speechless.

"Did you… get all of that?" asked Tallyn, looking back at him with shy eyes and flushed cheeks.

Aeon did not immediately look up at him. "Are you sure it was not from Laina?"

"Positive. She complains that we've never gone to the lake together, and besides, her handwriting is very different."

He looked down at the note uncomfortably. "What makes you think that something like this could be from me?"

Tallyn grew red but kept his gaze steady. "A few weeks ago, at the cliff, you told me you felt as though you've come home." He waited while Aeon avoided his eyes. "Do you remember that?"

Aeon shrugged. "I only meant…"

Tallyn waited for him to go on. Aeon picked up what he had written and flipped it over.

"Before I give this to you… will you do mine?"

"Yours?"

"My letter from a poetic lover."

"All right… I suppose it's only fair, isn't it?" replied Tallyn, producing another sheet of paper.

Aeon took the tattered, folded paper from his pocket and read: 

_Dear L.,_

It destroys me to know that I have caused you so much worry, and I am so sorry that it has taken me this long to respond. I've taken somewhat ill after reading your book, and am punishing you now with ruthless edits.

_At the lake I should have told you how I really felt instead of staring at you dumbly: that I love you desperately, without sense or hope. Your words are fire for my feverish heart. I wanted to repeat what I told you once before, as it means more now than it ever has:_

_Time passes, people move; like a river's flow, it never ends.  
__A childish mind will turn to noble ambition; young love will become deep affection.  
__The clear water's surface reflects growth.  
__I am aching for your embrace._

_T._

Tallyn put down his pen. "The lake again," he said.

"Yes," replied Aeon.

"What a strange, lovely letter. You never mentioned it was signed with a 'T'."

"I'm not sure it is—it could be a 'J'. I wanted to see how…" Aeon picked up the letter he had written and then passed it to Tallyn.

Tallyn studied it silently for a moment before speaking. "I suppose this was a silly exercise," he said, handing the letter he had just written back to Aeon. "Of course it's from you."

Aeon compared the letter from Tallyn to his folded and worn copy, lingering for a moment on the amorphous T or J-shaped initial. He glanced up at Tallyn.

"Well, this places us in a predicament, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"We've just figured out something about our past."

Tallyn looked over the letter again, still blushing.

"Does it… upset you at all?" asked Aeon.

"Surprisingly, it doesn't. As I've apparently said in the past… it means more now than it ever has." He looked at Aeon with new eyes. "So we were lovers."

"It sort of makes sense."

"How so?"

Aeon blinked self-consciously. "Because I've never been more attracted to another person, man or woman. Because, after we met, I've been unable to stop thinking about you."

Tallyn looked away. Aeon rubbed his temples agitatedly and stood and turned toward the door.

"Wait," said Tallyn, catching him by the wrist.

"Forget I said that."

"I can't," said Tallyn. He stood and approached him.

"Please," said Aeon, pulling his wrist away.

"No." Tallyn brought his hand to his face and caressed it.

"Tal…" sighed Aeon, "What about Laina?"

"Hush."

"What about Ilsia?"

"It's just this once," he said.

Tallyn kissed him softly and slowly. When they parted, he felt as though he had aged a hundred years.

"I have to get back to work," said Aeon.

"Was that alright?"

"Please don't make me answer that," said Aeon, dropping his hand and opening the door.

* * *

Tallyn gazed at Aeon from across the mattress. "Darling," he whispered, "we have to stop this."

"Yes," breathed Aeon. He kissed Tallyn deeply and folded his arms around him.

"Propose to her tomorrow. I'm serious."

Aeon gazed at him sorrowfully and ran his hand through his hair. "I will."

"After all, it's not right. I mean, I'm married, and it would be wrong to hurt Ilsia."

"I know, Tal. It's all wrong even though it's perfect. I know, I know." Aeon shifted his position. "So I guess this is our last night together."

"I guess it is."

"Should I get us some cordials and cake?"

"I don't want cake, I want you," murmured Tallyn.

* * *

She realized that it had been seven years, just like in Link's book, and wondered if there was a magnet inside Link, or a curse, that forces him to return to Kakariko Village every seven years, as time repeats itself in some parallel, magnetic galaxy.

He had asked her to marry him, and she had deferred in answering until she made up her mind that there would be no secrets between them. She asked him to meet her in the gardens behind the library later that day. When he arrived she took his hand and told him that she had something important to tell him.

"You can decide whether you still want to marry me once you realize what I've been keeping from you."

Aeon was quiet, and waited for her to speak.

"Your name was once Link, and you came here from Olous."

Ilsia told him more, about how he had come to the library as a researcher when he was eighteen and she was thirteen, and how he became very close to her brother.

"You were… lovers," she said gently, and was surprised to see him unfazed. She told him as little as possible about his research, how painful Tallyn's illness had been for him, and how he had disappeared without a trace.

He listened attentively, closing his eyes and clenching his teeth until she was finished.

"There. You must think I am very wicked for keeping this to myself. But, now you know."

Aeon looked at her with unreadable eyes. "Now I know," he repeated. He took her in his arms and kissed her. "So now, Ilsia, won't you please marry me?"


	18. EPILOGUE: Part 2

EPILOGUE: Part 2

* * *

Ten years passed peacefully.

Aeon had re-taken Link as his name and took over the forge as the master smith when his own master retired. Word spread of his beautiful work, and young craftsmen often journeyed to Kakariko to take a workshop with him. Ilsia grew more lovely and brilliant and gave birth to a little girl that they called Sahra shortly after she married. She continued to stay involved with bookbinding and the library and eventually began to teach her own daughter the craft when she turned nine. Tallyn and Laina had another child, a boy called Wyatt. They remained close to Link and Ilsia, getting together frequently and watching their children grow up together.

One day, a young man approached Link at his shop.

"I am looking for Link," he said.

"That's me," Link replied.

The young man drew in his breath. "Then, I have found you at last. I am your son; my name is also Link."

Link stopped what he was doing and stared at the young man. "How can that be?"

"My mother is Danae, from M." He spoke with a lilting northern accent.

Just then, the door opened and Tallyn walked in holding a damaged book.

"Hullo, Link," he said. He dropped it on the counter beside a young man, and then did a double-take when he saw his face.

"Tallyn," said Link, "I am so glad you're here. This young man says he is my son. What do you think?"

Tallyn looked over the young man, noting the uncanny similarity in height, gesture, and stance to Link. The boy had darker hair, but the same color and shaped eyes. His lips were fuller and his skin was somewhat different in tone, but in every other way, he was a perfect facsimile.

"Good gods! If this boy isn't a spitting image of you. I feel as though I've seen a ghost."

"You see…" Link turned to the young man, "Some years ago, I lost my memory. So, really, anything before then is possible. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

He paused. "That fits. So I lived in M. at some point." He looked over the younger man. "Could it be that you are also a smith?"

"I am, and I've heard word of your fine work. I had never met another Link before, so I wanted to see if there was a chance you might be my namesake." He smiled for the first time.

Tallyn watched the emotions play across Link's face, and he caught his eye and gave him a little nod. "I'll come back later," he said.

Link came around the other side of the counter to the younger Link and placed his hands on his shoulders, and then drew him into an embrace.

"Let me show you around the forge," he said.

* * *

Ilsia was delighted to meet the younger Link, and offered him a place in their home for as long as he wished. He was very kind and gracious, a talented and hard worker, but somewhat quieter than his father. He was good with children, and sat with Sahra and read her books and told her all about his travels and adventures.

One evening, Link brought his son to Tallyn's house for supper, where he formally met his father's closest friend and family. His eyes drifted away to Tallyn's daughter Silvia, who caught his gaze and held it with her strange, dark amber eyes. He was drawn to her like a magnet, and did not leave her side the entire night.

Tallyn met Link's eyes from across the table and passed him a knowing smile.

* * *

Two years later, on the evening of young Link's and Silvia's marriage, Link and Tallyn ducked out of the festivities and took a walk up to the little volcanic pond, which reflected their dark forms and the pale purple sky. They had long abandoned a physical longing for each other, and instead tended to the other's emotional needs by taking quiet walks together, or sitting by the water, or simply by watching the other practice his craft while sipping tea. The uniting of their families by marriage filled them both with such unspeakably deep affection, relief, and remorse, that they had both sat through the ceremony like pots of boiling water, threatening to spill over.

Tallyn took his hand in his and said nothing. In each other's eyes, they found a consensus that their blood, and thus a shade of themselves and the love they had once known, was finally entwined forever.

* * *

fin

* * *

__

I have been a multitude of shapes,

_Before I assumed a consistent form._

_I have been a sword, narrow, variegated,_

_I have been a tear in the air,_

_I have been in the dullest of stars_.

_I have been a word among letters,_

_I have been a book in the origin.  
_

Fragment by Taliesin Ben Beirdd

* * *

Thanks for reading! xoxo


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